


Defying the Stars

by traveller19



Series: Hold Back the River AU [8]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Londo Life Event, No Spoilers, TW: Vomiting, We meet some new Centauri!, Whump, Your regularly scheduled Lennier hurt/Delenn comfort, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveller19/pseuds/traveller19
Summary: Lennier and Delenn take a mission trip to Centauri Prime to help the inhabitants of an impoverished village after a devastating monsoon.  But an accident changes the course of their trip, and they uncover an incredible secret in its wake.  This story is part of the "Hold Back the River" AU, and reading the previous fics in that series (particularly "Hold Back The River") is necessary to understand this fic.





	1. Can I Go Forward When My Heart Is Here?

Centauri Prime was not what Lennier had expected.

To be fair, he was not really sure exactly _what_ he had expected. He had heard Vir talk about the city in which he had grown up and of the Capitol, so he supposed he had never considered what the planet might look like outside of the cities.

It was, as it turned out, rather beautiful. Lennier sat sideways in his seat for a full view out the window as their little shuttle banked, bringing into view even more lush, green forests bisected by lazily meandering rivers, which were split into levels by the occasional grand waterfall. Light caught the droplets from one of them just right, sending a rainbow arcing below the shuttle.

“It’s something to see, isn’t it?” Vir must have noticed him staring. Lennier turned and saw that he was smiling, clearly enjoying watching his friend’s wonder at experiencing his home planet for the first time.

“It is,” murmured Lennier as he turned to look out the window again. “When you spoke of Centauri Prime to me, you never mentioned this.”

“I haven’t actually been down there,” Vir clarified. “Only flown over it. The only civilization here is a group of little villages – the people who live there are pretty poor. And the forests are apparently pretty rugged. It’s not exactly prime tourism location. And I’m not really the adventuring type.”

“I must admit that I am quite fond of my comfortable couch and climate-controlled quarters, or the shelter of a library during a storm,” Lennier agreed. “But as Religious Caste, we are called to help those in need, and the impoverished residents of these little villages of which you speak are suffering from the effects of the recent monsoon in this area. If helping them restore their basic necessities means going without creature comforts for a few days, I am willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Well said, Lennier.” Delenn approached from where she had been standing in the cockpit, watching the landscape unfold before her from an even bigger window. “But as you can see by the breaks in the tree line, we are now coming upon the area affected by the monsoon. We are almost at our destination, which means…”

“Attention, this is your pilot speaking!” The voice on the intercom was positively gleeful. “We are coming in for a landing very shortly! And while your pilot has full confidence in his own abilities and experience in landing a shuttle, to be honest with you I have not flown in quite some time, and since there is no actual runway where we are going it might be a bit of a bumpy landing – _very_ exciting! When you are the one flying the shuttle, anyway. I am very much looking forward to it. So, I highly recommend that you all sit down now, and fasten your seatbelts. We do not want any injuries or concussions, even in those of you with headbones. Thank you for choosing Mollari airlines!” An amused cackle sounded over the system before the receiver was hung up.

“I am glad Londo is having fun,” said Lennier as he buckled his seatbelt.

“So much fun,” laughed Delenn, seating herself next to him. “I think it is good for him to go home for a bit, even if it is for a policy-making trip. After all, he will be helping the storm victims, just as the rest of us are.”

Vir looked with sad fondness in the direction of the cockpit. “I don’t know. A lot of bad stuff has happened on Centauri Prime for Londo. The Shadows being here, Emperor Cartagia…” He shuddered. “And it’s where he found out about, well…never mind.” Vir heaved a heavy sigh.

Lennier looked at him curiously, inviting him to go on should he desire.

Vir shook his head. “It’s not my place to talk about it, really. Just…it isn’t fair that sometimes one or two people have to suffer a lot for the greater good.”

“Sometimes it is unavoidable, Vir,” Lennier told him gently.

“I know,” sighed Vir, staring at the floor. “I just…I wish it didn’t have to be that way. They didn’t deserve it.”

Lennier exchanged a curious glance with Delenn, and she looked as confused as he felt. Neither knew exactly of what Vir spoke, but it obviously upset him to think about it. Vir’s caring nature made that a rather easy thing to do, unfortunately. Lennier squeezed his friend’s arm in solidarity, which managed to elicit a small smile from his friend.

As the shuttle dropped altitude, the landscape changed. The damage to the trees from the monsoon was evident, and soon a smattering of small villages was visible from overhead. They approached one in particular, and as they flew over it, Lennier could see that several houses – mostly very small and of apparently poor construction to begin with – had holes in their roof or broken windows. Some had fared even worse – he saw at least a couple of houses that had been completely flattened by the storm.

Londo flew over the village and landed the shuttle in an adjacent field.

“We have arrived at the tiny village of Crelemi,” he said over the intercom once they had touched down. “Please gather all of your personal belongings and watch your headbones as you exit the ramp. If you are choosing to remain onboard for the Capitol, please remember that you must be seated and strapped in for takeoff, so do not dawdle too long standing by the window waving to your friends, no matter how much you hate to see them go. That means you, Vir.”

“You’ll miss them, too!” shouted Vir up to the cockpit; Londo gave no indication if he had heard or not. “Even if it’s only for a week,” he added more quietly, smiling at Lennier and Delenn.

“We will miss you as well, Vir,” said Delenn warmly. “What will you be doing while Londo is meeting with the Centarum to work on securing aide for the monsoon victims?”

“Helping Londo when he needs me, and helping those affected by the storm in other ways when he doesn’t,” said Vir. “I’ve been in contact with some people about heading up an assembly line for making care packages with basic supplies – canned goods, bottled water, that kind of thing. The water will be particularly important – it’s a typical Centauri summer outside. Which basically means that it’s hot. Really hot.”

“Having been on the receiving end of one of your care packages, I will say that whoever receives one is blessed to have you on their side,” Lennier said. Of course the care package in question had been a bit different – it had been targeted to keeping his spirits up while he had been recovering from an illness and major surgery. But the root of the gesture was the same – Vir’s kind and caring nature led him to want to help anyone who may need it. This nature shone through again in his next words.

“You two should take care of yourselves,” Vir cautioned as Lennier and Delenn rose and gathered their belongings to exit the shuttle. “I know Minbari are built for cold and you probably aren’t used to severe heat. Take it from me – drink lots of water and stay in the shade when you can. And be careful with the sun especially – it’s not the muted sunshine that Minbar has. Being out in it too long without protection will burn your skin, especially in very fair-skinned people.”

“Thank you for the advice, Vir,” said Delenn. “We will be careful – won’t we, Lennier?” Her tone was heavy with suggestion. Lennier could not blame her. Sometimes he was not very good at looking after himself.

“We will,” he confirmed, smiling reassuringly at Delenn. “We have the sun cream Londo gave us. Don’t worry about us.”

“Okay. Good luck out there.” Vir waved and Lennier and Delenn waved back as they walked down the ramp. A wave of heat hit Lennier as he stepped outside the shuttle. Even though he was not wearing the traditional outer layer of his robes – being in service to those in need outweighed the ritual garb requirements of the Religious Caste – it was still uncomfortably hot outside. Well. It was not as though they had signed up for a luxury vacation. He and Delenn were here to work, and to serve. And despite the heat, Lennier was excited about that. Though in his work he was in constant service to Delenn and therefore to all of her undertakings to benefit Minbar, the ISA, and beyond, between the multiple wars and his several illnesses that had occurred over the past few years, he had not had much opportunity for true service in the field. He enjoyed it, and he had missed it.

Londo met them at the bottom of the ramp, squinting against the bright sunlight. Lennier found he needed to shade his eyes with his hand just to see Londo in the open field, which held not a tree for shade in sight.

“You will take care in this heat, yes?” Londo asked, gesturing around him, indicating the general area that surrounded them. “It could get to be a bit much for someone with an inability to sweat. And once Vir and I leave, there is no way for you to contact anyone, even in case of emergency, until we return for you in one week’s time. These villages are so poor they do not have lines of communication in place.”

“We will be careful,” Delenn reassured him. “Thank you for the ride.”

Londo waved his hand dismissively. “It was no trouble. I will be honest with you – I had not been in the pilot’s seat in quite some time. I rather enjoyed myself.”

Lennier resisted the urge to say, “ _we gathered_ ”. Luckily Delenn spoke before he could reconsider.

“You have not been to Centauri Prime since you were supposed to take the throne as emperor. Now that you are here in person, do you think the Centarum will try force the issue of your voluntary deferment?”

“Oh, I know they will,” said Londo with a harsh laugh. “But that is all right. They cannot make me do anything I do not want to – not if they truly want me to be emperor some day, anyway. And personally I think Virini is doing a wonderful job as Regent – even if his interior decorating choices can be questionable at times.”

“Are you looking forward to your visit home?” asked Lennier. Londo had mentioned previously that his family was from Centauri Prime’s capitol city.

“I would be more enthused if it was not a work trip,” Londo admitted, “but I do hope that I can provide these poor people with some relief. While I am ashamed that sufficient aide has not already been provided to them, I am willing to give the Centarum the benefit of the doubt and suspect that the problem stems from mere disorganization. I feel partially responsible for that, and therefore I must go and mend it. It will be a trying task, of that I have no doubt. But if the monsoon victims get the help they need out of it, then it will all be worthwhile.”

“That is a good attitude,” said Delenn with approval. “But all the same, I hope that you will have an opportunity to visit old friends over the next week.”

Londo’s hair crest quivered at the tips as he shook his head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Delenn, I am afraid that there really is no one for me to visit. All my acquaintances here at this point are strictly political. The only person I might have looked forward to seeing was…” He stopped, and shook his head once more, and Lennier saw sadness in his eyes. “No,” said Londo after a breath, forcing a smile. “My friends now are on Babylon 5. There is no one to visit. Not these days.”

Lennier recalled Vir’s mysterious skirting of subject matter but a couple of minutes prior. Why were both their Centauri friends acting so oddly? It sounded as though there were difficult memories for Londo on Centauri Prime, and he could not help but wonder if the two conversations were related.

“You should go and get settled,” Londo instructed. “Look after yourselves. I will see you in a week. Good luck.”

“And to you,” Delenn said. She and Lennier both triangled their hands and bowed. Londo dipped his head in return.

Lennier could see Vir waving out of the shuttle window as it took off, and he waved back, silently wishing his friends success in their endeavors. Then he turned to follow Delenn into what he hoped would be a novel and fulfilling experience.

 

Upon their arrival, Lennier and Delenn were greeted by the leader of the village, a middle aged Centauri male named Raston. Even though he smiled as he welcomed them, Lennier could see the exhaustion in his eyes. It had been two weeks since the monsoon of unprecedented strength had swept through this village and those surrounding it, destroying several homes in each and damaging even more. Many people and families had been displaced as a result, but temporary shelters had been set up. None of the villages in the area had power as a result of the storm, but back-up generators produced enough for at least the most necessary of functions. Lennier did not know how the villagers had managed to spare a small tent and cooling unit for himself and Delenn to have as their own, but they had, and it was _almost_ comfortable. He sighed with relief as he placed his bag on the ground and just stood with his face to the fan, feeling the cool air blast onto his skin.

While the village leader was very friendly and welcoming, some of the other villagers seemed a bit wary. The area was poor enough economically that technology was extremely limited, and Lennier sincerely wondered if some of them had perhaps never seen a Minbari before. Based on odd looks and surreptitious placings of the villagers’ hands on top of their own heads, they clearly found it quite strange that Lennier, a male, had no hair, and that Delenn, a female, had it in large amounts. Things seemed to be the other way around in typical Centauri culture. Even though neither Lennier nor Delenn felt threatened in any way, in order to avoid making any of the locals uncomfortable, they thought it best to take their dinner in their little tent that night, seated on their cots, eating Redi-Heats and pretending to enjoy them.

The cots were horizontal, and the availability of pillows on which to prop up his torso was limited. No matter how many different positions Lennier assumed, he could not convince himself he was laying at the forty-five degree angle he and his culture favored to sleep. On top of that, even with the cooling unit, the air in the room was just hot enough to make him uncomfortable. He had a difficult time falling and staying asleep, drifting in and out of wakefulness. Every time he woke up, he’d look over at Delenn. In the darkness, she was always still, and her chest always rose and fell slowly and evenly. Well, at least one of them was able to sleep.

Come the morning, Lennier blinked blearily as Delenn gently ran her thumbs over his knuckles to wake him.

“Good morning,” she said with a soft smile that made him smile back despite his perpetual exhaustion. “How did you sleep?”

Lennier rubbed his eyes, which felt as though they had not closed all night. “I will admit I have had more restful sleeps. But I suspect that after a hard day’s work my body will be more able to give into its need to rest tonight.”

Delenn knitted her eyebrows sympathetically. “I am sorry you did not rest well, Lennier.”

“It is all right,” he reassured her with a soft chuckle. “I walked into this situation well aware that mission trips generally do not provide luxury accommodations.”

That made Delenn smile. “That is a good attitude to maintain. But we should eat some breakfast before the day’s work begins.”

“Yes. That we should,” murmured Lennier in agreement, yawning and stretching.

After a protein bar, Lennier made sure to apply the sun cream Londo had provided him with in the hopes that it would shield his fair Minbari skin from Centauri Prime’s bright sun rays. He rubbed it on his face and arms – the places his shirt did not protect. His mission for the morning was herb gathering to replace the stock of the village healer, as the majority of it had been lost in the flooding. It was to be a relatively short trip – an hour walk one way through the forest and then to a large clearing that held the majority of what they needed, and then back. Londo had told Lennier to use more sun cream every few hours, but with his emergency rubbing alcohol and antibody injections, Lennier’s little rucksack was already quite full, and since the trip would be fairly short, he elected to leave the bottle in the tent. 

“I wish I was going with you,” Delenn told him as they readied themselves to leave the tent. “I know it is important to distribute the food we brought, but I would much rather be going on a walk.”

“We have enough people to gather herbs,” Lennier reminded her gently. “And we determined already that it was better for you, as such a prominent figure in our government, to be more visible, as a way of continually nurturing interplanetary relations. Besides, you will be indoors all morning, where it is cooler. And therefore safer.” _And because of that, I would rather you stay here. I know your human genetics might make you a bit more tolerant of this heat, but you are still Minbari._

“And _I_ wish _you_ were staying here for exactly that reason,” sighed Delenn. “I know I should be more willing to let you help in whatever way your heart calls you to – that is what we believe in, after all. But…”

“You worry,” murmured Lennier. “I know.” He knew that always doing whatever would pose the least threat to his admittedly delicate health would make Delenn the happiest, and this knowledge made him _want_ to do exactly that, all the time. But he had also decided that he was not going to allow his medical condition to dictate the course of his life. He would not be careless, but he would not let the fear of exacerbating his illness keep him from following the calling of his heart. And this week, that calling was to help the impoverished residents of Centauri Prime with whatever they needed to recover from this storm.

“I do worry,” Delenn confirmed, taking his hand. “But as much as I dislike the idea of you getting ill, I dislike the idea of you not being able to live and serve as your heart calls you even more. So I will only say – look after yourself, Lennier.”

Lennier squeezed her hand. “I will. Have a good morning, Delenn. I will be back by lunchtime.”

At the center of the village, surrounded by storm-tattered houses, Lennier met two Centauri males. They were young, barely adults if that. One of them nodded to him as he approached.

“You are Lennier?” He spoke in English, and though his voice was heavily accented, it was a different accent than either Londo’s or Vir’s. Lennier remembered Londo once mentioning, likely during one of their occasional poker games with Vir and Mister Garibaldi, that Centauri had different accents depending on what class your family came from.

“I am Lennier, of the Third Fane of Chudomo,” he confirmed with a steeple-handed bow.

“I am Franscen of House Adagio,” the young Centauri replied before gesturing to his companion. “This is Rocco of House Venza. He, like many of our village, does not speak English. I can translate for you.”

“Thank you,” said Lennier, with another quick bow in Rocco’s direction, acknowledging his respect even through the communication barrier. He was grateful for the translator – despite his skill with languages and his knowledge of a good portion of the basic Centauri language, the residents of this village appeared to speak a dialect with which he was unfamiliar. “I am ready to depart whenever you are.”

“Then let us go,” said Franscen. “The further we get while it is yet early, the better. The day only gets hotter from here.”

Lennier tried his best not to think about being even warmer than he already was as he followed the two Centauri out of the village and into the forest. He had hoped that the shade provided by the trees would help to alleviate the heat a bit, but it was not to be. It only worsened the humidity. Soon, the Centauri were sweating quite profusely, although it did not seem to bother them. Lennier supposed they were accustomed to it, which was good because despite everything, they appeared to be wearing at least three layers of clothing. As someone who often had his customs questioned by other races, Lennier tried very hard not to wonder why they chose to do this. But it was difficult.

“Your species, you do not perspire?” asked Franscen as they walked, running a long shirtsleeve over his own moist face.

“No,” said Lennier. “Minbari are adapted to a cold climate – the entire southernmost third of our planet is covered in ice fields which remain frozen all year round, and our winters are harsh and long no matter where you are on the planet. We have no evolutionary reason to be able to perspire.”

“That sounds like a….a not enjoyable place to live.” Franscen laughed even as he struggled to find the right words in a language that was not his own.

For a moment, Lennier was offended by the comment. He loved Minbar and did not like for it to be insulted. But then he realized that the Centauri was laughing not at Minbar itself, but at the starkness of the difference between their two worlds. It was a laugh of amazement, not of mockery. And so Lennier laughed as well.

“Well, to be honest – as all Minbari are – I do not believe I would be very comfortable living here.”

Clearly he must have responded correctly to the situation, because Franscen roared with laughter. Then he turned to Rocco, spoke quickly in their native language, and the two of them laughed loudly. Well. At least they were having fun.

Once the joviality had settled, Lennier asked of Franscen,

“How did you learn to speak English, if so many of your village never did?”

“When I was a child, my parents saved for many, many months to send me to school in the Capitol. There is just no - what is the word? - _opportunity_ for a good education here. I attended for three years. I do not know how my parents managed to get enough money working as simple farmers for expensive schooling, but they did. But then my father became ill and died, and my mother could not make enough money on her own for us to survive and to keep me in school. So I had to come home and work.”

“I am sorry about your father, and that you could not finish your education,” said Lennier softly. So much of his childhood had revolved around his education in the temple – he could not imagine being forced to do without it. How lucky he was, he realized.

“It is how life goes,” shrugged Franscen. “When I came back, I was able to teach some other people in my village things I learned at school, including how to speak some English. Ambra Jifan, our village healer, has also helped in this. She spoke it before coming here, though I am not sure how she came to know the language. Anyway, coming back here meant I got to spend more time with my friends, including my brother-in-arms, Rocco.”

Rocco, though he knew not of what they spoke, smiled when he heard Franscen say his name.

“Brother-in-arms?” asked Lennier curiously. “Were you involved in some war?”

Franscen shook his head with a laugh. “No. It is more of the spirit of the thing. Although if we were ever in a battle, I am sure that Rocco would stay by my side no matter what, and I would do the same for him.”

“Ah.” Lennier nodded. “I understand. I, too, have such a friendship.”

“With the woman you came here with?”

Lennier blinked at the forwardness of the question, and also the perceptiveness of the asker. “Yes, Delenn. We have, in fact, been through more than one war together, as well as many other trials. And I know that no matter what happens, she will always be there for me. And I will do the same for her.”

Franscen smiled knowingly. “I know. I can…feel your affection for her, and hers for you.”

“You’re a telepath.” Lennier stopped short. “You didn’t…”

“No, not to worry.” Franscen held up his hands. “My gift is but small. I cannot read thoughts, only strong feelings. And both yours and hers are strong.”

Lennier paused, then nodded. “I see. I am sorry, I did not mean to accuse you…”

“It is all right,” Franscen reassured him. “Most people react as you do. Privacy is one of our dearest possessions.”

“That it is,” sighed Lennier as he started walking again. “But the friendship between Delenn and I is no secret. I am not surprised you were able to sense it.”

“We are lucky, to have such friendships,” Franscen said, looking fondly at Rocco, who had gotten a few steps ahead of them. “It makes life so much better.”

“It does,” murmured Lennier with a smile. “There would be so much less joy in my life if Delenn was not there. Although I wonder, had it not been for her, if I would ever have come to Babylon 5.”

Franscen tilted his head slightly to the side. “Babylon 5?”

It occurred to Lennier suddenly that this village was so poor and isolated that its inhabitants had not ever heard of the place he had come to call home.

“Yes. It is a space station. Delenn and I live and work there.”

“So you do not live on your home planet anymore?”

“Not right now. Maybe someday again.”

“Ah,” said Franscen, nodding his understanding. “You wish to return?”

The crystal towers and extensive forests of Tuzenor appeared in Lennier’s mind’s eye, and he felt a pang of nostalgia. But it was short lived as he remembered all his current home had to offer. “Ideally, yes. But maybe not for awhile. I have many friends on Babylon 5, and as much as I miss Minbar, I would very much like to be around them for awhile longer.”

Franscen smiled. “It is not the place, but rather the company, that makes somewhere feel like home.”

Lennier had to agree.

They stopped a couple of times along the way to collect herbs, which Rocco seemed to be the better of the two Centauri at identifying, and then they would be on their way again. Eventually, the forest gave way to a vast clearing, with no shade in sight. Even though he was missing his traditional outer robe, Lennier began to detest the need for his shirt to protect him from the sun. Though of course, it also served to conceal the ugly scars from his lung lobectomy and abdominal surgeries.

After about a walk of an hour total, Rocco brought them to a halt at the bank of a river. The rushing water looked so cool and inviting that Lennier ached to jump in, clothes and all. Rocco bent down and plucked a small plant from the ground and held it up for them to see, and then spoke in his language.

“ _Medden_ leaf,” Franscen translated. “A very important herb. It is the reason we came so far from the village. It relieves pain and helps to bring down a fever. We should collect as much as we can. It grows along the riverbank.”

“All right,” said Lennier. He made a mental note of the appearance of the plant, and set to work searching. Franscen and Rocco spread out as well. Lennier had searched for herbs with some frequency as a child, wandering through the forest that edged the temple outside of Tuzenor where he had grown up. Back then, he had been looking for plants for use in religious ceremonies. But the process was the same, and he found it quite relaxing, despite the heat.

That was, until a couple of minutes later, when a strangled cry shattered the tranquility of the clearing.


	2. I Dreamt a Dream Tonight

Lennier instantly abandoned his search for the herb and went sprinting down the bank toward the source of the sound. Moments later, he found Rocco lying on the ground next to the riverbank, both hands clutching his left leg, his eyes shut and his breaths deliberate and labored.

“Rocco, what happened?” asked Lennier automatically before remembering that the young Centauri likely could not understand him, and if he could he probably could not answer. Lennier knelt down next to him and gently made to pull Rocco’s hand away from his leg so that he could see exactly the source of his obvious pain. But Rocco yelped when he touched him.

“I know it hurts, and I’m sorry,” said Lennier gently. “But I need to see. Please.”

Rocco met his gaze with tears in his eyes, but Lennier could see that he seemed to understand the urgency of the situation. Rocco took a deep breath and swallowed hard. And then he slowly lifted his hands from his leg, and Lennier had to fight the urge to shove them back on. They were covered in blood, and blood flowed from the leg – not oozed, not trickled, but flowed like river that ran next to them. Rocco stared down at his own leg and whimpered, then pressed his hands back to the wound.

Lennier took a second – only a second – to process what was happening, and to realize that he needed to act. He happened to catch a glimpse of the blood-covered end of a broken reed out of the corner of his eye – Rocco had likely slipped in the mud along the bank and cut himself on the sharp, woody plant. But in that second, Franscen came running up to his friend, tears streaming down his face.

“Rocco!” He sank to his knees next to his stricken companion before meeting Lennier’s eyes.

“He is badly hurt, I can feel it. It…it hurts so much and the terror is crippling.” He was sobbing, practically gasping for breath as he did so, his whole body shaking right along with Rocco’s.

“He is badly hurt, you are correct,” said Lennier. He fought to keep his voice calm, because _someone_ needed to be calm in this situation. “We need to get him back to the village, but we will need at the very least two more people to help us carry him. I know it’s a long way, but I need you to go back to the village and get help.”

Franscen shook his head emphatically. “No! No…I can’t leave him.” He looked at Rocco desperately, tears streaming down his face. “What if he dies while I’m gone?”

 _Then let me be the one to feel as though I failed to save him._ “Franscen, if we do not act with haste, then he _will_ die,” Lennier said, desperately banking on Rocco’s inability to understand English. “Please. You are much better equipped to run in this heat than I am. I need you to do this. _Rocco_ needs you to do this.”

Fanscen sniffled and looked once more over at Rocco, who seemed to be getting paler by the minute. Franscen laid a hand over Rocco’s for a moment, then murmured something in his native language. Rocco nodded, his bottom lip quivering, and then Franscen rose.

“I will return as quickly as I can,” he told Lennier. “Take care of him.”

“I will,” Lennier promised as Franscen sprinted out of sight. As soon as his best friend was out of sight, Rocco shut his eyes with a little moan.

“It’s all right,” soothed Lennier, hoping that his tone of voice would be of some comfort to the injured Centauri even though he could not understand his words. “Just keep holding on.”

He could still see blood seeping from below Rocco’s hands. The flow was not slowing down, and they likely had a couple of hours to wait before Franscen returned with help, and even longer before they were able to get Rocco to medical care of any sort. With the bleeding occurring as quickly as it was, there was no way Rocco would survive that long.

What he needed was a tourniquet. Without hesitation, Lennier removed his shirt, leaving his upper body exposed, and tied it as tightly as he could just above the wound. Rocco whimpered as he cinched down hard on the cloth.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Lennier. “But this will staunch the flow of blood, at least somewhat.”

And it seemed to, mercifully. Though blood still oozed slightly from Rocco’s leg, it was no longer pouring out. Lennier sighed with relief and, after reassuring himself that Rocco was not going to pass out at that very second, he turned to rinse the blood from his hands in the river. But though he was only turned away but for moments, a broken whimper sounded from the stricken Centauri beside him.

“It’s all right,” Lennier said softly again, shaking his hands dry and adjusting his position so that he was sitting next to Rocco. Rocco shivered despite the heat of the day and regarded him with a pleading expression. Lennier’s heart broke for him – he knew exactly what it felt like to be in his position- in pain and weak and helpless and frightened for his life. He knew that the foremost thing upon someone’s mind in that situation was to be with the person who brought them the most comfort. It could mean the difference between having the strength to keep holding on or not. For Lennier, that person was Delenn. So many times she had been the only thing keeping Lennier clinging to life while in the throes of desperate illness. For Rocco, Lennier guessed that Franscen was likely the source of his strength in difficult times. But Franscen wasn’t here, and Rocco desperately needed reassurance.

“I am here,” Lennier reassured the young Centauri, laying a gentle hand on the trembling arm. “I will not leave you, I promise. Franscen will be back soon, and he will have someone to help us get you back to the village so you can get the treatment you need. You just have to keep holding on until he gets back, all right?”

Lennier had no idea if Rocco understood a word he said or not, but at his touch the Centauri seemed to relax just the littlest bit, and he lay flat against the ground and shut his eyes. Lennier was startled at first, thinking he had lost consciousness as a result of the fact that a large amount of blood that used to be in his circulatory system now lay on the ground. But his even – though rapid – breathing told Lennier that he was only resting. Sleeping, Lennier doubted. But hopefully resting a bit. He would need to preserve his strength as much as possible.

Lennier continued to watch over Rocco, trying to remember what Doctor Franklin had said about shock. The problem was, whenever he had heard this information, Lennier had unfortunately been the one in shock. Therefore, his memory was a bit skewed. But he thought he recalled something about the patient’s pulse being too weak and too fast, breaths being shallow and rapid, and pallor. Rocco had become quite pale, and his breathing was too quick. But Lennier though that this might only be due to the pain, since when he laid his fingers on Rocco's neck (remembering something Londo had said about Centauri not having major arteries in their wrists), his pulse still felt strong. Despite having some _medden_ leaf in his bag, Lennier knew better than to give any kind of medicine to someone, since he was not a trained medical professional. And especially since he knew so little about this herb. Administration could cause unforeseen complications, potentially making the situation even worse. But all the same, he wished he could help with Rocco’s pain somehow.

However, it was not long until Rocco was not the only one in pain. Lennier cursed his decision not to bring extra sun cream, because without his shirt, his entire upper body was completely exposed to the bright, nearly midday sun. And there was no shade visible to the eye in any direction. Not that it mattered, because there was no way he could move Rocco by himself, and he could not leave the stricken young man. If Rocco did die, Lennier did not want him to be alone. The most terrifying thing when you were this helpless was the prospect of dying alone. This, Lennier knew from experience, and he shuddered to recall those times. But soon, the unadulterated solar rays began to cause his shoulders to feel stiff when he moved his arms, which was frequently – he continued to cup his hands and fill them with water from the river, and then soak Rocco’s clothes with it to prevent him from overheating. Lennier knew that for his own good he should get out of the sun, but unfortunately that was not an option. There was no cover to be found, so Lennier just endured the discomfort, as he was often so adept at doing. But soon, the stiffness blossomed into pain, and after awhile Lennier could feel the heat radiating off of his skin, and his whole torso felt painful whenever he moved _any_ of his muscles even a tiny bit. He could see his forearms beginning to turn an alarming shade of red, and when he accidentally brushed his shoulder against a nearby reed, he had to stifle a yelp of pain to avoid upsetting Rocco.

Soon, the pain began to spread to his head, and by the time Franscen returned, he could barely see straight for the pounding in both his temples and next to his headbone. He squinted against the painful sunlight as Franscen and two Centauri newcomers, a middle-aged female and another young male, knelt next to Rocco. The woman quickly began examining the wound on Rocco’s leg, which had all but stopped bleeding now with the continued application of the tourniquet. She spoke to the other man in their native language, while Franscen cupped the side of Rocco’s face in his hand and murmuring softly to him. Rocco, still pale and shaking, long since having lost the strength to even try to stand, looked up at him with such pain and desperate hope. Lennier could not help but wonder if that was how he himself appeared when he looked at Delenn all those times he had been desperately ill.

“Thank you for staying with him,” the other male Centauri said. “But you look as though you could do with some medical treatment yourself.”

“I will be fine,” said Lennier, blinking hard against the pain and the brightness. He turned toward the woman, who was now pressing what appeared to be some sort of poultice against Rocco’s leg. “Is she a healer?”

The man nodded. “Giulina is from the next village over. The healer from our village does not have the proper tools to perform the kind of surgery such a wound will require. But Giulina does, and luckily she was visiting our village when Franscen came running in. I came to help carry Rocco. Most of the village is out working on repairs in the crop fields, and since time is so much of the essence, we not did not think it wise to spend more time looking for more help.”

Giulina and Franscen stood just then, looking to Lennier and the other man for help. But Guilina took one look at Lennier, who she obviously had not even noticed before, pointed to him, and started talking rapidly and harshly to Franscen in their dialect. Franscen shook his head and responded, looking desperately and apologetically at Lennier.

“She says you are in no state to carry anyone.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Lennier said matter-of-factly, though he wished desperately for a way to get out of this. But there just wasn’t one – if he did not help, Rocco would die. It was as simple as that.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Franscen said sadly. He spoke again to Giulina, who took one more look at Lennier and shook her head. But then she beckoned Lennier closer, and together all four of them lifted Rocco.

The moment that Rocco cried out in pain from the inevitable jostling of his injured leg, Lennier saw stars from the contact the Centauri’s body made with his shoulder. _Oh, OH, it hurts._ He took a couple of deep, steadying breaths, willing the world to stop spinning and his sudden rush of nausea to abate as the others adjusted their grips to get as comfortable as possible. Through what was perhaps sheer force of willpower he was ready to begin walking by the time everyone else was.

But that did not mean it was easy. Every moment, every _single_ moment, was its own separate torture. With each step, Rocco’s body was jostled against Lennier’s, rubbing his excruciating skin. It sent tears to his eyes, which in turn made his head throb. And the heat of the Centauri’s body against his own was so stifling that at times he felt he could hardly breathe. Lennier called upon every single moment of his meditation training. He could put pain and discomfort out of his mind and enter a state in which he was not aware of it. And so he did, but it took such effort to maintain, with the pain being constantly reiterated with every step.

_Focus. Breathe in slowly, breathe out even more slowly. Oh, pain. It hurts…no. Focus, Lennier. Breathe. But it hurts…_

And so it went on, for what seemed to Lennier to be an eternity of agony. And what was worse, as time went on, the meditation became even harder to maintain, and he spent more time thinking about the pain than targeting his thoughts. This wasn’t right; he _never_ had this problem. He was good at meditation. He was. All his teachers said so. Why couldn’t he do it now?

Lennier choked on a whimper as he stumbled, causing even more of Rocco’s body weight to press down on his raw shoulders. He barely heard Franscen ask from behind him if he was all right, and he almost did not register himself nodding. _Just have to keep going. Just keep going. It will end eventually. I just have to carry on._

But as he did, he found himself stumbling more frequently. His whole body felt shaky, and a couple of times he almost doubled over mid-stride with the urge to vomit. But somehow, Lennier managed to stay upright, despite the fact that his peripheral vision seemed to have been replaced with a completely unpopulated blackness. His headache was quickly becoming the only thing he was aware of, and all he wanted to do was curl up in a dark, cool place and close his eyes. No, not cool. He was too cold as it was. No, that wasn’t right. Was it?

He was vaguely aware of having stopped, and by some miracle, the weight of Rocco’s body was lifted from his shoulders. Which was good, because his legs chose that moment to stop supporting his weight.

 

Lennier did not know why he felt cold. His skin, after all, felt like it was on fire. But it felt like the inside of him had been left out on Minbar’s southern ice fields without enough layers of robes. It was an odd juxtaposition, but Lennier was in no state to appreciate it. Nor did the warmth of the ground comfort him in any way, because when he struck it, he all but screamed in pain as his bare, seared skin slammed into the dirt. He dug his fingernails into his palms and instinctively curled as tightly as he could around himself. He was shaking, he realized distantly. Rocco had been shaking, too. Where had Rocco gone? He needed medical attention, and very badly. Lennier needed to make sure that happened. Hadn’t he just been holding him? But someone had taken up the burden for him. Where were they now? He couldn’t even see – everything was blurry and too dark. Why couldn’t he see?

And where was Delenn?

But suddenly, he felt a cup being pressed to his lips.

“Here, drink. It is water.”

Lennier had not realized how thirsty he was until the cool liquid touched his parched lips. And then he drank and _drank_. Or at least, he tried to. But the blessed elixir was taken away far too soon. He whimpered in protest.

“You may have more soon,” he was reassured. The voice was female, and heavily accented. Almost like…but no, not quite. If he squinted very hard, he could see that the woman kneeling in front of him was not Delenn, but rather a Centauri. It was hard to make out any other details – his head was pounding and the sunlight was _so_ bright.

“Let us get you inside away from the sun and the heat,” urged the Centauri woman. “Come, take my hand. I will help you.”

Lennier did not think he would be able to stand and walk, even with assistance. He was so dizzy he would had no idea which direction the ground was had he not felt it painfully beneath his skin. But then he felt a hand, small but strong, grasp his. Another pressed his back with incredible gentleness and slowness, giving him time to adjust to its presence. He still cried out in pain, but the effect was overall not as bad as he might have expected. He gritted his teeth as he put all of what remained of his strength toward getting to his feet. His legs trembled and he leaned heavily on his savior, but by just concentrating on each step as it came, he was able to make it into a tent.

There was a bed in the tent. It was a horizontal folding cot, like the one in the tent he had been sharing with Delenn, but to Lennier it looked like the most inviting treat in the universe. He sank down onto it and immediately curled up, his entire body shaking even worse than before for the effort of walking even a few more steps. How had only that small effort cost him so much when he had managed to walk what had to have been at least a mile and a half while carrying a quarter of a Centauri’s body weight on his shoulder? He did not know.

A smooth, hard object was placed beneath his tongue, and he tried instinctively to rid himself of it.

“No, no, lie still,” the Centauri woman soothed. “It is a thermometer. I need to read your temperature – I suspect it is much too high.”

Once more, Lennier obeyed. He did not know this woman, but her voice was soft and kind, and so was her touch. She was not Delenn, whom in his helplessness he ached for desperately, but everything she had done so far had helped. He had taken some water, and he was finally in the blessed, blessed shade. Clearly she did not intend to harm him. And even Lennier, stubborn about his health as he knew he could be, knew that he needed help. But he still desperately wished for Delenn’s comforting presence. She was always what made him feel just strong enough to keep persevering when his illness got to be otherwise too much for him – she and she alone could bring him the comfort he needed. And as shakes of chill and exhaustion wracked him, he could not help but utter a soft sob at the emptiness and panic left by her absence.

After a time, the woman removed the thermometer from his mouth.

“I was correct,” she murmured. “Stay here. I will return momentarily.”

Lennier’s eyelids fluttered closed. He would have no problem remaining right where he was. 

But no matter what position he lay in, some of the scorched parts of his skin were in contact with the mattress. Weak though he was, he tried to find a position that was less uncomfortable, but the act of moving around caused him to rub against the sheets, and that made things all the worse. The pain from his skin made his head throb, and that made the contents of his stomach slosh and turn uncontrollably. A flash of sunlight from the opening of the tent flap accosted his eyes, and suddenly Lennier could not wait a moment longer. He did not have the strength nor the spatial orientation to hold himself upright – instead, he curled inward and vomited onto the sheets.

“That is all right, do not worry.” The flap opening had been the returning of the Centauri woman, and soon Lennier felt a damp cloth dabbing at his mouth. He heard a sloshing noise, and what sounded like something heavy being set on the floor of the tent. His caretaker quietly thanked whoever it was that had deposited the object, and they left. As they did, light came in through the flap again, causing the same terrible effect. The act of retching amplified the pain in Lennier’s head, which in turn made his nausea all the worse. He retched over and over again, abhorring the knowledge that he was losing the vital fluids of which his body did not already have enough. Even without an ability to sweat, he had run out of water long before the rescue party had arrived, and he had been cautioned not to drink water in this area without boiling it first due to the presence of harmful bacteria, so he had avoided quenching his thirst in the river. He had no doubt that dehydration was contributing to his headache, and all of this was making everything worse.

But it was not until when finally, _finally_ , after several minutes of heaving into the soiled bedsheets, Lennier’s exhausted body gave up its attempt to expel his entire gastrointestinal tract through his mouth, when the need to vomit was not the foremost issue on his mind, that he felt the pain in its full extent. It felt like someone was jabbing knives into his eyes from inside his head, and if he moved so much as a millimeter, the throbbing in the back of his skull sent shooting tendrils of pain to the rest of his head. He could not even try to stifle a sob, and the tears that tugged at his eyes did not help matters.

“Delenn,” he whimpered. Logically, he knew that just saying her name, distraught though he was, did not mean she would magically appear to comfort him. But he was beyond logic now.

“She will be back soon,” the Centauri woman reassured him, and Lennier felt the tiniest bit of hope and comfort flutter weakly in his heart. “Raston asked if she could hand out food to the workers in the fields. She will return by this evening.”

Lennier sighed shakily with relief. He still wanted more than anything for Delenn to be next to him, but she was coming. He knew she was coming, and that kept him going.

A particularly intense stab of pain shot through the back of his head and then ricocheted to his temples. He shut his eyes hard and cried out. 

“I know, you must be in incredible pain,” murmured the Centauri woman sympathetically.

“Hurts,” Lennier managed to grind out in a whisper. “Head. Skin.”

“Your temperature is not helping,” she said. “The tub will cool you.”

When he squinted, Lennier could barely make out that the heavy object he had heard being set on the floor was a metal tub that was just large enough for one person, and it was full of water. He shuddered at the thought of immersing himself in it in his current state.

“’M cold already,” he whimpered, and even through his dark and blurred vision he could see the way the woman’s eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Then the burns have made you feverish as well as overheated. It is all the more important we get you into the water. Come. It will help to soothe your skin as well.”

As unpleasant at the prospect still sounded, Lennier did not have the energy to fight. And he knew that he needed to take care of himself so Delenn would be less upset. He knew that he should have been embarrassed at the fact that a woman he had never met was removing his pants. But it was as though it was happening distantly, to someone else, and so he lay still. He gasped with pain when she laid a gentle hand once more on his back, but with much effort and head spinning and more near-misses with vomiting, he was able to shakily stand and walk the couple of steps over to the tub.

But when the Centauri woman lowered him into the water, it was as though Lennier was suddenly shocked back into his own body. His every muscle tensed, accentuating the pain that blanketed his skin.

“F…freezing!”

“It is colder than you, but not as cold as it feels,” the woman said softly. “I know it is uncomfortable, but it will help you. Just close your eyes and take deep, slow breaths and allow your body time to acclimate. Imagine that it is warm and soothing, and it will feel that way.”

What she was describing sounded like meditation, but at this point Lennier knew he was too delirious to even try. He whimpered and squirmed and shivered. The pain and chill overwhelmed him until he thought he could no longer bear it. Every couple of minutes, he opened his eyes and cast about wildly for Delenn until he remembered once more than she was coming. But his fevered mind was steadily becoming less and less able to cope with both his current situation and her absence. He _could_ bear it, if only she was there. But she wasn’t, and he couldn’t.

But something warm and fragrant was held under his nose, and after a couple of breaths, Lennier felt his eyelids suddenly becoming too heavy to remain open. He was still painful and freezing, but he could no longer stay awake to concentrate on those facts.

He welcomed sleep with open arms.


	3. What Sadness Lengthens His Hours?

When Lennier woke, he wasn’t in the water anymore. He was dressed in a very thin dressing gown. There was not even an iota of roughness to the fabric, and Lennier distantly wondered where something so fine had come from in such a poor, weather-beaten village. Great care had obviously been taken in selecting it for him, and he felt almost guilty that his skin still burned under the feather-light touch of the fabric.

He opened his eyes to find that he was lying on the cot in the tent the Centauri woman had brought him to, propped up on pillows. There was a blessedly cool breeze blowing on his face; after a moment of searching, he saw that the cooling unit that had been in his and Delenn’s tent was now in this one. As he angled himself to face it, he felt a simultaneous relief and uncomfortable stinging sensation. His skin still felt as though it might rip apart at any minute, and when he fidgeted it rubbed against the fabric of his dressing gown and sent sparks of pain running up his back and made him cry out. He did not know if the bath had helped his temperature, but he certainly did not feel any better. His head throbbed and his nausea was still very much present. And he still felt chilled. Moving with aching slowness to keep the aggravation of his skin at a minimum, he weakly attempted to pull the blanket near his feet up over his body. But before he could get very far at his arduous pace, a hand gently touched his, with obvious care not to brush the bright red skin above his wrist.

It was the Centauri woman again. “I know you feel cold, but I promise that covering yourself will only cause you more pain, and it will be ultimately worse for you. You still have quite a fever, and you are recovering from being overheated. You must stay cool just now.”

Lennier shivered hopelessly. It seemed as though the only part of him that _wasn’t_ painful to even the slightest touch was his hands, and suddenly he wished more than anything to feel Delenn caressing his knuckles like she always did when he was sick. The Centauri woman had told him she would be back, and he tried to reassure himself with that – he did not know how long he had slept, but logic said that Delenn likely would not be long at all now. But he was too weak and miserable to listen to logic, and he could not stop the hot tears that only added to the apparent temperature of the skin on his cheeks.

“Oh no, no,” soothed his caretaker. “Please do not cry. I know you are in pain and feeling very poorly, but I will care for you, and you will feel better with time. All will be well soon.”

“Delenn,” Lennier whispered, and for a moment her name was all he could manage. “N…need her here with me.”

Delenn should not be with him, of course. She should be out helping the villagers, as they had set out to do. But selfish though it was, Lennier longed for her comforting presence. He felt so sick and painful and alone and scared and she was all that was home to him. He choked out a sob and the Centauri woman pressed his hand with the softest of touches. But it was enough to convey to him her genuine desire to comfort him.

“Your friend should be back very soon,” she murmured, and Lennier tried very hard not to allow himself to hope that she might be right.

The woman held another glass of water out to him, and he found that it did not look as quite blurry as it had before. But even the act of trying to focus on it made him feel squeamish.

“You should keep drinking liquids,” she instructed him gently. “You have considerable lost ground to make up in that department.”

Lennier squirmed and whimpered as the surface of his back rubbed against his nightshirt. “I’ll just bring it back up again.”

“Not if you just take the littlest of sips,” she reassured him. “You will feel better for it.”

Lennier looked distastefully at the glass as she held it out to him for a moment, but then with hands that trembled more than a little, he accepted it and took one miniscule sip. But even that much made his stomach turn and he instinctively pressed his hand against his abdomen, wincing at the pain of the both the movement and the touch. The Centauri woman quickly took the glass from him so he would not spill it all over himself or the bed. Lennier pressed his eyes tightly closed and prayed for the waves of nausea to stop.

And they did. His stomach still felt uncomfortable, but the imminent need to vomit had passed. He supposed he would just need to work up on building a tolerance for water. He was not, after all, in the well-supplied Medlab on Babylon 5. There was doubtlessly no way for him to receive intravenous fluids here, and therefore he would need to replenish the deficit himself, or risk his condition worsening even further.

At that thought, Lennier’s stomach practically jumped into his throat with another horrifying realization. If he did not have the capability of receiving intravenous fluids, then he definitely had no way of getting his antibodies by the same route. And as sick as he was, he almost certainly needed to be on a constant infusion, or his weakened immune system risked sepsis. His thoughts automatically went to Delenn and how absolutely shattered she would be if that were to happen all over again. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. He _couldn’t_.

“Have…have medicine I need,” he murmured. Why did talking have to be such a struggle in such a desperate situation? But he persevered, for Delenn’s sake more than his own. “B…brown rucks…sack in our tent.”

Dizziness washed over him and forced him to shut his eyes. He hoped he had given his kind caretaker enough information.

“I will find it.” She sounded confident, and Lennier took at least a small amount of comfort in that. He was not quite ready to open his eyes yet, but he heard her rise and leave the tent. Lennier took steady, even breaths as he lay still and awaited her return, hoping desperately that his antibody administration would not be too little or too late.

A mere couple of minutes later, he heard the tent flap open again, and when he slowly opened his eyes, he saw that the Centauri woman had returned. Mercifully, she was holding his rucksack.

“Tell me what to do.”

Again, mercy. She did not ask what the medication was for, or any more details. Only what was important at that moment, because she knew that was all he could manage. That was, if he could even manage that.

“S…should be an intravenous drip. I’m too sick.”

She shook her head sadly. “There is no way to do that. Only a proper hospital would have that, and we are so many miles away from any of those.”

He had suspected as much, but his heart still sank to hear it confirmed. Well, he would need to do the best he could, then. There was nothing else for it.

“In the muscle then,” he murmured. “One m…milliliter. Arm works best.”

“All right,” the woman said. Her calmness made the fluttering panic in Lennier’s chest lessen a little. She was not Delenn, but she was being very kind and attentive, and Lennier was very grateful for that. He would tell her so, whenever he was able to muster the energy.

The Centauri woman pulled the antibody solution from the bottle into the syringe, making sure to measure the correct amount. It was clear she had done it before, and that reassured Lennier. He was too unwell to give detailed instructions, and he knew it. His caretaker laid her hands beneath the blanket for nearly a minute so that cold from her touch would not be so abrasive to Lennier’s burned skin. It worked, but not entirely. Lennier still gasped with pain when she touched him, and uttered a little sob as the needle pierced his skin.

“That hurts, I know,” the woman murmured. “If this is supposed to be a constant infusion, how often do you need it as an injection?”

Lennier did not want to think about that. Once had been enough of an insult to his tender, sensitive body. But his illness did not work like that. The sicker he got, the more of the antibody he needed. He did not know exactly what frequency of intramuscular injections would make up for not having the ability to keep the solution pumping straight into his bloodstream, but it only made sense to error on the side of caution.

He swallowed past a parched throat. “Every f…four hours should do it.” He had enough of the medication in his rucksack to do that for the rest of the week – he had been prepared for an emergency, at least. Not making those preparations was only asking for trouble – trouble that would hurt both himself and his beloved friend Delenn. When things were going well for Lennier, he gave himself injections into the muscle in his arm twice a week. As a result, his arm ached more often than it did not, and the process itself was far from enjoyable. But the thought of having to endure it every four hours, with the skin on his arm so excruciatingly sensitive, made him have to stifle a whimper. He cursed himself for being childish, but he could not help it – he was so terribly miserable that every little thing was upsetting and frightening to him. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that Delenn was sitting next to him, but the image was not convincing enough. When he was sick back on Babylon 5, Delenn would give him her favorite shawl to keep him feeling connected to her during the times she couldn’t be with him. While it was, of course, no substitute for her presence, it brought Lennier such comfort. But he did not even have that now. Why hadn’t Delenn come back? Surely she should have returned by now. What if something bad had happened to her? The more Lennier thought about it, the more likely it seemed. They were in the middle of the wilderness, in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people…surely she must be in terrible trouble.

In his panic, he did not even realize that he was crying again until the Centauri woman soothed him once more.

“I know, you must feel positively miserable.” She sighed sadly and studied Lennier’s face. “Your eyes are glassy. I believe your fever is rising again. It is probably making everything seem all the worse.”

Oh. Was that why he suddenly felt such a sense of imminent doom pressing down on him? He was drowning in his tears, every hitch of his shoulders as he sobbed pulling at his seared skin and sending shocks of pain through his whole body. Would the pain and the chill and the nausea and the weakness ever stop? It all seemed so hopeless. He _needed_ Delenn; he couldn’t do this without her.

And then suddenly, as though she had heard his most desperate of cries, she was there, standing at the doorway of the tent. He sobbed and reached out to her, and with deep concern and mild horror in her eyes she ran to him. The Centauri woman moved to hinder her, but the action was not quick enough to stop Delenn. Delenn bent at Lennier’s side and cupped her hand to his cheek in a gesture of worry and love. She had done it so many times, and he had always found immense comfort in the gesture. But this time was very different. At the same time as Delenn pulled her hand away from Lennier’s face with a jump as though she had been burned by the heat throbbing from it, Lennier uttered something between a yelp and a strangled sob as the pressure of her hand against his skin made him go nearly blind with pain for a moment. He could barely process the words being said around him as he internally begged desperately for the agony to subside.

“Lennier! Oh my dear, I am so sorry…”

“Do not touch him. He is incredibly painful.”

“What _happened_ to him?”

“Delenn,” Lennier croaked. “D…Delenn, you…you’re here.”

She instinctively made to reach out to him again, but pulled her hand back, remembering herself at the last moment. The realization that she could not touch him seemed to break her heart, and that in turn broke his. While Minbari were overall outwardly subdued in their expressions of affection, when it came to deep relationships, much of those subtle displays were based on touch. For Delenn and Lennier in particular, sometimes words were not enough. For them not to be able to touch each other in such dire times was almost like one of them had suddenly gone deaf or mute. And when Lennier was unwell or upset, he craved Delenn’s comfort, and he knew that it giving it to him was just as important to her.

“Yes, _Ker’maier Ard’ka_ , I am right here.” Her voice cracked over the term of endearment, and her hand trembled as she brought it to rest on the bed sheet next to him. “Everything is going to be all right.”

He wanted to say “I know,” but suddenly he did not feel as though he had the strength to speak. He tried to smile at her, to let her know that her presence was all that was necessary – she needn’t worry about him anymore. But he had a feeling he failed miserably in that as well. He did not know if it was the rising fever or his immense relief at Delenn’s presence, but he suddenly felt as though he could not keep his eyes open.

_It’s all right, Delenn._ He wished he could have said it aloud, but he managed to pray that she would know it just before the unstoppable force of the need to sleep became too much for his tired, hurting body.

 

“Lennier.” Even though the voice was but a whisper, he knew in his half-awake state that it was Delenn. She was still there with him.

Of course she was. He knew she would never leave him when he needed her.

He blinked groggily, then winced. As he returned to wakefulness, the pain, too, returned. He still hurt everywhere, but even though he was still very sleepy and weak, the chill, dizziness, and nausea seemed to have subsided at least a little. He felt more clear-headed, as well – better able to comprehend what was going on around him and converse at least a little.

“Hello,” he whispered, feeling a bit more successful at smiling this time, even though the pulling of his facial muscles hurt the skin on his cheeks.

Delenn smiled back, looking a bit less shaky and upset than she had when he had last seen her, and Lennier felt relieved at that. It did not matter how miserable Lennier felt – all was well as long as Delenn was all right.

“Hello,” she murmured back, love and apology in her eyes and in her voice. “I am sorry to wake you, Lennier, but I need to give you your injection.”

So that was why he was still so sleepy – he had only been asleep four hours at the most. He knew he was going to need much more than that if he was to recover his strength, but unfortunately this was not going to be a one-time event. If he was to have his medicine every four hours, long periods of uninterrupted sleep would simply not be possible for awhile. It would make his recovery more difficult, but he knew that if he did not take his injections, there would likely not _be_ a recovery. He would have to endure it, then. But he knew that he could, now that Delenn was there with him.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, struggling to sit up and catching himself – the dizziness was not _entirely_ gone, as it turned out. “I can do it.” He knew how much it hurt Delenn to cause him pain of any kind, even if it was an absolute necessity.

“No, Lennier.” Delenn’s voice was so very gentle, but just firm enough not to allow for protest of any kind. “The fever and the pain have made you too shaky – I do not want you to accidentally harm yourself more.”

He would not argue with her – he did not quite have the energy for that, and he knew that it would only hurt her more. So he nodded slightly and settled back against the pillows his torso had been propped on. They were crude and worn, but soft enough as not to irritate the bare, sensitive skin of his back. He watched Delenn draw the clear liquid from the vial and into the syringe – he hated that she was so practiced at it, that he had given her reason to be. He managed to restrain his reaction to a soft gasp as the needle pierced his skin – the pain was just too much for him not to react entirely, though he tried so hard.

“I am sorry,” whispered Delenn again, her eyes swimming with sadness. “I know that must hurt terribly.”

“I can manage. Really.” She did not look convinced, but he laid the palm of his hand - seemingly the only part of the upper half of his body that was not on fire – over the top of hers where it rested on the cot as she sat in a chair next to it. She did smile a little then, but it did not quite reach her eyes.

“Ambra told me what happened,” she murmured.

“Is that her name?” he asked, noticing for the first time the absence of the Centauri woman, and immediately feeling guilty for not thinking of her sooner. “I am afraid I have not been in a condition to even inquire. I feel awful about that – she has taken such excellent care of me, though we are but strangers.”

“It is not your fault,” soothed Delenn. “And I owe her a debt that I doubt can be adequately repaid for looking after you. The fact that she was able to get your antibodies into you in a timely manner probably saved your life.” She shuddered, and Lennier tightened his grasp around her hand. It was so awfully unfair that Delenn should come so close to losing him as often as she did.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “It is not…”

“I know.” He rarely interrupted her; this was an aberration. But in the past, this conversation had led to Lennier blaming himself for causing Delenn pain, even when logically there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. But he had come to learn that him blaming himself only hurt her more, so he wanted to show that he had moved beyond that, that he had grown. But he _was_ sorry, all the same. “I just hate that you are hurting because of this.”

She nodded and sniffled. “Lennier, what you did…I should be _furious_ with you for putting yourself at risk like that. But I am so proud of you my heart could burst.”

Her praise left him slightly breathless. He knew, of course, that she was always proud of him. It was not like she did not make it obvious. But still, hearing the words warmed his heart.

“Is Rocco all right?” Lennier had been so sick that he had not even been able to muster up the strength to ask after the welfare of the young man he had helped.

“Ambra says that he is stable and recovering. You saved that boy’s life, Lennier,” Delenn said, and Lennier lowered his eyes humbly. “He would not be alive if not for your sacrifice.”

“I did what anyone would have done,” murmured Lennier. “I could not just let him die. And he would have, if something not been done.”

Delenn bit her lip, looking worried. “There is no guarantee that neither will you, though. This sunburn has already compromised you systemically, and Ambra said that in a day or so, it will begin to blister.” She hugged her arms across her chest as though to physically protect herself from an onslaught of emotion. “Oh, Lennier, we are completely stranded here. I see now that this was a terrible idea – coming here put you at far too great a risk. Without the ability to give you constant intravenous antibodies or any antibiotics, I am worried that your chances of infection are very high. And if this does take a turn for the worse, we have no way to treat you properly.”

Lennier winced internally – Londo had warned him in explicit detail about all the sequelae of a severe sunburn, but he had been feeling so ill that he had forgotten the specifics until now. What was that phrase he had heard John Sheridan use on occasion? _No good deed goes unpunished._ Yes, he was being punished all right. But there was no use anticipating – he would deal with those problems as they arose. He wanted very much to know how Rocco was as well. But there was nothing more Lennier could do for him either way. Right now, Delenn needed comfort. Everything else could wait.

“Faith manages, Delenn,” he soothed. Delenn bit her trembling bottom lip as though to hold it still and consequently prevent her tears from flowing. Lennier reached out very slowly, ignoring the pull of the burning skin on his arm, and interlaced his fingers with hers. Upon feeling his touch, Delenn unfolded her arms and sniffled while trying to smile. Lennier persevered. “Ambra has done a wonderful job caring for me so far. Even if her healing arts are not what we know, that does not mean they are not effective.”

Delenn sighed shakily and nodded. “You are right, of course. She told me the tea she made you had antibiotic properties in it.”

Lennier squinted. “What tea?”

Delenn smiled sympathetically. “Poor Lennier, I thought you might have been too delirious to remember that. The last time Ambra and I woke you to give you your antibody injection, she also made you a tea with special herbs to help fend off infection. It is not guaranteed to stop one, especially for you with your chronic illness, but she has had success with it in the past and the recipe has been handed down in her family for several generations. Anyhow, when we woke you, you seemed barely aware of anything that was happening. You cried out during your injection, but your fever was quite high and you were so exhausted that you settled right down again. After we got some of the tea into you, I reassured you that I would stay with you and you said, ‘I know you will, Delenn, you always take care of me.’ And then you fell asleep.”

Lennier smiled. “Well, at least delirious me remembers just how wonderful you are.”

“Even when you are at your sickest, you are always so sweet,” murmured Delenn, laying a hand to his heart and then laying it gently over her own in a traditional Minbari gesture of very strong love. “My Lennier.”

“But I was right, though,” Lennier said, interlacing his fingers with hers. “You _do_ always take care of me.”

Delenn squeezed his fingers lightly. Lennier placed his other hand over both of theirs, but as he moved his arm he felt his scorched skin stretching again and he could not hold back a wince, and Delenn cringed in sympathy before delicately extracting her hand from both of his.

“Before she went to sleep, Ambra left me with a salve for your skin. She says it will help with the pain and the heat, but I am worried about applying it because I am afraid it will cause you more agony.”

“It is all right, Delenn. Sometimes we have to hurt a little for things to get better,” Lennier reassured her.

Delenn smiled appreciatively, then took a jar from the nearby counter and dipped her fingers into it. The salve was translucent and smelled a little like xenn, which Lennier vaguely recalled Marcus having once told him was much like an Earth lemon. It was pleasant and it made Lennier relax for a moment, until Delenn touched him. She was _so_ gentle, but the salve, though the same temperature as the inside of the tent, felt frigid to his burning skin. And even the lightest of pressure from Delenn’s touch made Lennier tense and gasp.

“Oh Lennier, I am sorry,” murmured Delenn. “That must hurt terribly.”

“It…” Lennier clenched the bed sheet in his fist to try to give himself something else to concentrate on while the pain dispelled. “It is all right.”

And it was. After a few seconds, the pain was gone, and it was replaced with something resembling relief. His skin felt cool, even cold in the air fueled by the cooling unit. His muscles relaxed and he sighed softly, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Delenn smile. Seeing that the salve seemed to be making him feel better, Delenn continued to carefully massage it in, starting at his back and shoulders, then working her way to his arms and finally his torso. Each time she first touched an area, Lennier would wince and squirm. But then the coolness would seep in, and he would feel better. By the time Delenn finished, Lennier noticed that not only did his skin feel cooler, but it was less painful as well. He settled into the bed a bit more and closed his eyes.

“Do you feel better now?” Delenn murmured, her voice rich with affection.

“Yes, very much,” Lennier replied without opening his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Good. Rest now – you will need to wake again soon for your next injection, so I suggest you sleep while you can.”

Lennier nodded, and he smiled when he felt her lips very gently brush his forehead. It barely hurt at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is enjoying the fic so far! Comments are very much appreciated - thank you!


	4. Sad Hours Seem Long

Lennier felt very groggy when Delenn next woke him for his injection. He mumbled through an apology for barely being able to keep his eyes open. Delenn reassured him that it was perfectly all right and understandable – though his fever had broken, it had left him very weak. His body needed all the rest it could get so he could recover his strength. Lennier nodded his understanding, but even the slight effort it took to make the motion seemed far too much for him. 

He was vaguely aware of the Centauri woman – Ambra – offering to give him the injection so Delenn would not having to keep hurting her best friend. Part of Lennier hoped Delenn would take her up on the offer, for her own sake – even though she was helping him by giving him the injections, he knew she hated causing him pain. But the other part of him, the part he wished would be quieter and less emotional, guiltily wished she would refuse. Fever or no, Lennier still felt utterly miserable and weak and very painful. The idea of being poked in his tender arm with a needle was still just as unappealing as it had been four hours ago. But the idea of Delenn being the one to deliver the painful insult made it seem not so awful. Logically, he knew Ambra had no desire to hurt him, and she had already successfully injected him once – there was no difference between the two of them giving him the medication. But Delenn was his comforter – his solid foundation that helped him weather any storm, even when he felt so shaky and delicate that he could crumble with the slightest breeze. And when she was taking care of him, everything seemed brighter.

To Lennier’s secret relief, Delenn said,

“Thank you, but I would like to do it. It is nothing at all against you, of course – it is just that we are so very close, Lennier and I, and we have been through much together. He has had a great many severe illnesses and close calls with his health as of late, and so I have come to know that when he is ill, he is calmest and most comfortable with me. He has been through so much – I just wish to ease his discomfort as much as I can. And besides, I do love taking care of him. If any bright spot is to be found in all of his health troubles, it is that is has brought us so much closer together and allowed me to give him the care he deserves, and the care that I wish to give him.”

Ambra smiled as Delenn drew the medication into the syringe. “It is wonderful to have someone to love, is it not?” To Lennier, she sounded a little sad.

“I am blessed in that way many times over,” said Delenn, her eyes shining. “All right, Lennier, are you ready?”

Lennier was grateful that she had asked him because it gave him the opportunity to steel himself. He whispered an affirmation and then tensed, whimpering softly as the needle pierced his skin. But though the pain was still quite intense, it was slightly less than the last time. Lennier was unsure whether to attribute this to actual healing or the lack of fever that had made everything seem worse to him, but he decided it best not to dwell on the reasoning too much. He just accepted the gift gratefully, and when he moved very carefully, he was able to press his head, elevated on pillows, into Delenn’s shoulder. Delenn softly touched her lips to the top of his head. Lennier allowed his eyes to close – there was very little he could do at this point to keep them open – but he listened to Delenn and Ambra talking as he teetered on the edge of sleep once more.

“Your friend did a brave thing,” Ambra said. “Rocco is alive and recovering because of his actions. You should be very proud.”

Lennier felt relief course through him at the knowledge that Rocco was continuing to recover, and he hoped that Franscen was able to stay at his friend’s side throughout, just as Delenn was here with him.

“I am always proud of Lennier,” murmured Delenn, and Lennier felt his heart soar. “He has never given me reason to be anything but. I am honored to have him as my dearest friend and companion. He does so much good and never asks for anything in return, and he has endured so much and stayed strong through it all.”

“It is good that he has you in his life.” Ambra’s voice was warm, but again, slightly saddened. Mentions of being close to someone seemed to invoke that response from her – it was subtle and trained, but even in his half-sleep the perceptive Lennier could detect it. She was missing someone. Lennier wondered whom.

“It is good that we have each other,” amended Delenn. “I know my presence is of great comfort to him always, and I would be hopelessly lost without him. He reminds me every day that no matter how difficult things get, all of what we endure is worth it if it means we can be with the ones we love.”

“Yes.” Ambra’s voice sounded practically hollow, and Lennier forced himself to open his eyes just a little to observe the sadness in her gaze. It pulled at his heart, so much so that he could not help but fidget in an attempt to dispel the negative feeling. Delenn quickly soothed him with a soft murmur, and he settled for her sake. But the nostalgia and grief and loneliness in Ambra’s eyes still haunted him after he had shut his own once more.

 

As sleepy as he still was after his next injection four hours later, Lennier had difficulty settling. He was experiencing a different kind of pain from just the burning that persisted even when he lay still. Now not just the rubbing of his skin when he moved caused him anguish, but mere changes in the amount of pressure applied to various burned parts of his body as well. There was also a feeling of tightness in his skin that had not been there before. When he happened to look down at his arms, he felt nausea brew in his stomach and throat again.

He was covered in hundreds of tiny, translucent blisters. He reached out with one hand to touch his other arm in a probably foolish yet irresistible attempt to judge the true possible extent of his pain, but before he could Delenn caught his hand and held it between both of her own.

“No, Lennier, you must not touch the blisters, tempting though it may be. I fear that if they open, it will put you at terrible risk for infection.”

She seemed really quite fretful about this prospect, and Lennier supposed that it was with good reason. He immediately resolved not to attempt to agitate the blisters in any way again, no matter how uncomfortable they might become.

“All right, I won’t,” he whispered, and Delenn squeezed his hand where she held it, but to Lennier’s chagrin, she did not seem reassured.

“I’ll be all right, Delenn,” Lennier murmured resting his free hand atop both of hers. The act of lifting his arm seemed to exhaust him just a little bit less than it had previously. “Please don’t worry.”

Delenn’s sigh trembled a little. “Of course I knew this was going to happen – Londo warned us very thoroughly of the effects of sunburn.”

“I know, I look like an overcooked _ailecococ_.” Lennier forced a weak chuckle, but to his joke did nothing to ease Delenn’s obvious discomfort. Lennier’s heart sank as he watched her hunch over slightly in her seat. It was a subtle enough act that most people would have missed it, but not Lennier. He knew Delenn, knew that she always stood and sat straight and tall. For her to engage in an act of self-comfort like this meant she was very upset. She needn’t comfort herself, though, Lennier thought, because he was there. He gently removed his hand from between hers and grasped both her hands in his. For several moments, he did not say anything. He just held onto her, wishing with all of himself that his strength and pain levels would allow him to pull her close. Delenn looked at him sadly, the shine in her gray eyes telling him that she was fighting tears.

“I am afraid, Lennier,” she whispered hoarsely at long last.

Lennier recalled their conversation just a few hours prior, when Delenn had expressed her fears about their remote location, lack of contact with the rest of civilization, and the lack of antibiotics in the face of Lennier’s particular medical condition. It appeared as though his reassurances had not helped as much as he had hoped. Denying the possible was unfair, he realized. He could tell her everything would be all right all he wanted, but that did not make it necessarily true. As much as he did not want to think about it, Lennier could indeed get very sick from this – far sicker than he already was. To say that was not possible would be a lie. And he was not going to lie to Delenn – and besides, they both knew the truth, anyway.

So instead, Lennier took Delenn’s hand and held it silently, doing his very best to hold in his own tears in as a few of Delenn’s slid down her face. A couple of them came to rest on his arm. Their heat agitated his burning skin further, but he did not allow himself to show this.

He continued to hold Delenn’s hand when Ambra walked into the tent, bearing a basket of leaves of some kind. Delenn looked up when she heard her enter, but she did not wipe away her tears or remove her hand from Lennier’s. Ambra smiled briefly at them before realizing that something was wrong. Looking concerned, she quickly placed her basket on the table of the workstation in the corner of the tent and came back over to the cot.

“My poor friends, what is the matter?” She looked Lennier over and shook her head. “The blisters have come, I see. You must be careful not to break them.”

Lennier nodded. “Yes, I know. I shall take great care.”

“He knows I am worried about him getting an infection.” Delenn sniffled and inhaled shakily. “I am sorry, Ambra. You have done so much to help Lennier and all of it has been such a blessing so far. I wish I could just trust that everything will be all right.”

“No, it is all right. I understand.” Ambra did not sound offended. “I know that my ways are foreign to you, and therefore you have no reason to believe they will work. They are completely different from what has worked for you in the past. And I also know that much is at stake with your health, Lennier. I do not blame either of you for worrying in such a situation in the absence of the medical care you normally depend upon.”

“Thank you for understanding,” whispered Delenn tremulously, and Lennier managed a little smile. “You are completely correct. Without antibiotics, I am afraid these blisters put Lennier’s health very much at risk.” Her voice cracked again, and Lennier ran his thumb over her knuckles.

“I know it is not the same as being in a sterile hospital with access to unlimited kinds of medications, but we will take every measure we can to keep you safe.” Ambra’s words were addressed to Lennier, but he could tell that they were really intended just as much for Delenn as they were for him. “We will take care to keep your skin clean and dry. You can continue to apply the salve, though – that has antibacterial properties, and it will help with the pain and the burning. If any of the blisters should rupture, we will clean the area immediately.”

“I have plenty of rubbing alcohol in my bag,” Lennier said. He kept a sizable supply of the chemical with him at all times in case he should acquire a cut or abrasion that drew blood and therefore exposed him to bacterial contamination. Even before his emergency antibody injections, it was his first line of defense against another sepsis event. However, the irony of a Minbari carrying around relatively copious amounts of alcohol was not lost on him.

“Good,” said Ambra with a nod. “That will be quite useful in such a situation. The _medden_ leaf, which I have been putting in the tea I have been making for you, will also be of great help.”

“That is the herb we were collecting when Rocco was injured,” recalled Lennier, wincing internally at the memory.

“Yes,” affirmed Ambra. “It will fight bacteria and help with pain. Laying it on areas of local infection helps to draw out pus, and ingesting it helps to fight it throughout the body. I once had a patient with an infection in the arm that was bad enough to give them a fever. A couple of days of regular dosings of _medden_ tea broke the fever and healed the wound.”

Delenn’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”

Ambra nodded. “I will not claim it is as effective as your medicines are, and it does not always work – every patient’s condition and situation is different. But I have seen good results with it.” She walked over to the workstation. “These leaves I just gathered are the base of the tea – they are very fresh. I will start making more for you now.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” Lennier triangled his hands and bowed respectfully to his host. Delenn mirrored him.

“Yes, thank you, Ambra,” she echoed softly. She sounded a little apologetic, but also very grateful.

The Centauri woman smiled. “Healing is my life’s work now.” She placed the leaves into the teapot and filled it with water. “I am merely serving as my heart tells me to.”

Lennier smiled. “That is a very Minbari thing to say.”

“Is it?” A smile played on Ambra’s lips. “Perhaps it is more of a universal sentiment than any of us realize.”

“I hope so,” murmured Delenn. “In our culture, before anything we must follow the calling of our hearts.”

There it was again. That sadness in Ambra’s eyes. Lennier’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight. Ambra was so kind – it was not fair that some ever-present pain should clearly haunt her like this. He glanced over at Delenn, but if she saw what he did she did not let on. So Lennier remained mute on the subject.

“That is a very good philosophy,” Ambra said as she hung the teakettle over the fire. Once her hands were free, she slid on into a pocket near the waist of her dress, left it there for several seconds, and then removed it. Lennier could see nothing in her hand. “The path a Centauri takes in life is generally chosen for them before they are even born.”

“You have no option to choose otherwise?” Lennier asked.

Ambra shook her head. “Not unless you wish to be disowned by your family.”

“That is sad.” The words had left Lennier’s lips before he realized what he was saying. He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should not speak ill of other cultures just because mine differs from yours. Please forgive my rudeness.”

“No, it is all right.” Ambra brought a chair to sit near the bed while she waited for the kettle to heat. “It _is_ sad. Some Centauri – mostly the more elderly Republicans – would disagree with you, but I do not. As someone who has spent their life being controlled by others, the idea of being allowed and even encouraged to follow one’s heart holds great appeal for me.”

“And is that what you are doing now?” Delenn asked. “Following the calling of your heart?”

Ambra’s smile did not quite meet her eyes. “For the most part.” The teakettle whistled and she rose, removed it from the fire with a towel, and poured a steaming cup. “My mother died when I was sixteen years old. But before she was taken from me, she was a healer. I always wanted to follow in her footsteps, and I would have from the beginning, had her death not changed things for my family so terribly. But all throughout my childhood, I watched her work, learned her skills. I helped her take care of her patients, and by the time she died I was ready to take over for her. But it was not to be.” A hint of bitterness crept into the sadness in her voice. “But that is a story for another time.” The steam emanating from the teacup had subsided a bit, and Ambra brought it over and handed it to Lennier. “Drink this up, and then I will pour you more.”

“I take it this herb is not like a drug that can be overdosed?” Lennier asked, accepting the cup and taking a sip. The liquid was hot and slightly spicy, which appealed to his Minbari tastes. It was good.

“No,” Ambra reassured him. “The antibiotic properties are best ensured with greater intake, and the pain control should be better as well. I can tell by how careful you are any time you move that you are uncomfortable, so I added more of the herb to the tea. And besides, it is important that you stay hydrated.”

Lennier nodded and sipped again. He had not wanted to admit it, but she was right about his discomfort. The blisters and the sunburn itself were working together to make him quite painful.

Delenn watched him with sadness and concern. “I am sorry you are hurting, my dear.”

“It is not the worst I have had,” Lennier soothed. “And I am sure Ambra’s tea will help to ease the discomfort.” He exchanged a smile with his host as she slipped out of the tent to attend to some unknown task, before turning his attention back to his friend. “Have faith, Delenn. All will be well.”

“You are right, of course.” Delenn sighed shakily but managed a little smile. “The universe has preserved my _Ker’mair Ard’ka_ thus far. All my training tells me to trust in its wisdom.”

“Not to mention to serve.” Lennier’s shoulders sagged. “I feel terrible about this, Delenn. We came here to do mission work and on the very first day I landed myself in bed.” His heart plummeted to the floor as he spoke words he did not want to say, but knew were the right thing all the same. “You should be out there doing service work, not sitting here with me. If all of the good we could have done on this trip is erased because of me, I…” He shook his head and then met Delenn’s eyes pleadingly. “Delenn, please go and salvage this trip. Help the people of this village like we meant to. I…I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“Lennier.” Delenn uttered a small laugh of disbelief, but she said his name with such affection that it lifted his heart, though just a little. “You saved someone’s life, and at such great cost to yourself. I think that alone should be enough to qualify as good enough service for one trip.” She took his hand that was not holding his teacup and pressed it, and he could not help but smile.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You _suppose_? I imagine Rocco – and Franscen – have stronger feelings about the situation!”

Lennier chuckled. “All right. You win, of course. But I do wish you would go and do more service work.”

“I will,” murmured Delenn, love evident in her voice. “When you are feeling a bit better.” Lennier started to protest, but she held up a hand, and he knew it was no use even trying. “I _know_ you are in pain, no matter how much you try to hide it, and you are still weak from the fever. I do, of course, wish to help the villagers, but caring for you will always come first for me. You have done enough self-sacrificing for the both of us this trip – allow me to indulge the both of us for a little while. Because as much as you say you wish I would go work, I _know_ you would rather have me here with you.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only because I know you so well.” Her eyes shone, and Lennier felt his heart melt. “Now, drink your tea and then get some rest. I will be here.”

And he had to admit, he _was_ very glad of that.

 

The _medden_ leaf worked as well as Ambra had said it would for the pain from the blisters and Lennier’s burnt skin. It was always present, but not with nearly as much intensity as it had been. Thanks to the relief it brought, Lennier slept well throughout the day, despite needing to wake every four hours for his antibody injections. Every time he woke, Delenn was there with him, offering him sips of tea and water and holding his hand. He would take what he was offered and smile at her as he faded back into sleep.

The next morning, Lennier felt a bit stronger, and once again he gently urged Delenn to go pursue the mission work they had come to perform. This time, she agreed. But before she left, she asked Ambra to be sure to send for her immediately should something go amiss with her friend’s health. Ambra agreed amidst Lennier’s reassurances that he would be fine and all would be well, and then finally Delenn left.

But as much as he had wanted Delenn go and to fulfill their reason for coming to Centauri Prime, once she was gone, Lennier found himself feeling lonely. He was not surprised – he always felt this way when he was ill and separated from Delenn. She was his comforter and his strength, and without her there he was not quite whole. He reassured himself that she would be back soon, and settled down to keep resting, as he knew Delenn wanted.

He was just pulling the thin sheet over himself when the tent flap opened and Ambra returned with a load of clean laundry. She smiled when she saw him awake.

“Hello, Lennier. How are you feeling?”

“The pain is more manageable today as long as I am careful in the way I move,” Lennier replied, “though I believe that may be due in part to the stronger concentration of the _medden_ leaf I am ingesting. And I am feeling a bit stronger than yesterday, although the development of that strength is frustratingly slow in its progression.”

“That is an effect of the high fever,” said Ambra knowingly. “It will take time and rest for your strength to return. Patience is warranted. But I am sure you know that. This is not the first time you have experienced any of this.”

Lennier sighed. “No. It is not,” he admitted. “But patience comes no more easily no matter how much experience I gain with the art of convalescence.”

“I do not believe anyone would blame you for that,” Ambra said. “From what I understand of your situation, you are ill far more than is fair for anyone. It seems to me that you are being incredibly patient.”

Lennier smiled. “My friends keep me grounded – Delenn especially, of course. She is my strength when I have none, my comforter when I am afraid or upset, and my cure for loneliness.” He tried his hardest to ignore the little twinge in his heart as he said those words. Yes, he himself had urged Delenn to go and do the service that they had come to perform. And she had only been gone for a couple of hours and would be back that evening. But selfishly, Lennier missed her.

“And you are lonely now without her.” It was not a question. Lennier forced a single, harsh chuckle.

“How perceptive of you. Are you sure you are not Minbari?”

An amused but slightly sympathetic smile danced at the corners of Ambra’s lips. “It does not take any special powers of perception to see the loneliness in your eyes, and how much more at peace you are when Delenn is here. And though a great many of her worries and fears appear to stem from your safety and wellbeing, it is obvious that she feels the same peace when she is at your side. The two of you obviously have a very special bond.”

Lennier’s heart felt full at her words. “We do. We are…meant to be at each other’s side forever. Our friendship is of the very deepest kind.” He decided to forego the mention that he and Delenn were bound together by no less than prophecy.

The sadness that Lennier was by now accustomed to seeing passed over Ambra’s face again, but as usual, she offered no explanation. And once more, her hand slid into her pocket – it appeared to Lennier that she was fingering an object contained within it, as though whatever it was held some kind of comfort for her. After a few seconds, she seemed to remember herself and withdrew her hand, empty once again. Eager to distract her – and himself - he changed the subject.

“Do you know how Rocco is doing? Are there any updates on his condition?”

Ambra carried a cup of _medden_ leaf tea over and handed it to Lennier, who accepted it with a grateful dip of his head. “I just spoke with Giulina this morning, actually. She says that Rocco’s condition improves daily. He is slowly getting stronger, his wound shows no sign of infection, and the _medden_ leaf seems to be controlling his pain enough to keep him relatively comfortable. Giulina feels very good about his chances of making a full recovery.”

“That is very good news indeed,” said Lennier, relieved. “I am very glad he is likely to be all right. I must admit that, even once the flow of blood was slowed, I was quite worried about his wound getting infected. That is…it’s not good.” He suppressed a shudder at the memory of his own experience with such things.

Ambra saw his discomfort and smiled kindly. “I cannot imagine. But I think there was just enough blood seepage after you applied the tourniquet to continue flushing bacteria out of the wound, and Guilina cleaned it very well as soon she got him back to her tent. And the _medden_ leaf tea is helping him to stave off infection also, just as it is for you.”

Lennier nodded his understanding. “And how is Franscen?”

He half expected Ambra to inquire why he was concerned about Franscen, who was by far physically the healthiest of the three of them at that moment. But upon hearing his question, Ambra sat back in her chair with a soft, sad sigh.

“I must say that I am considerably more worried about Franscen than I am about Rocco. I have known Franscen ever since I first came to this village. He was the first person who was kind to me, in fact – almost like a friend.” 

“He seems to care a lot about his friends,” Lennier observed.

“He does, though Rocco is dearest among them,” Ambra said. “The thing is, Franscen cares so much because he _feels_ so much. If you experience strong emotion while Franscen is nearby, he can detect it. And if the feelings are strong enough, he feels them himself, as though they were his own.”

“He felt Rocco get injured,” Lennier murmured. He remembered blood pouring from the huge gash in the young Centauri’s leg, and the way Rocco’s face had contorted in pain. Franscen had felt that pain too. And simultaneously, he had experienced the sickening realization that his friend was in terrible danger. The combination must have been unbearable – to feel every single throb and moment of searing physical agony and terror as well as his own crippling fear for his dearest friend’s life.

“Yes,” murmured Ambra. “Franscen is a kind soul, and a sensitive one. He does not deserve the emotional onslaught that has befallen him, and I fear it may take some time for him to recover. It is a very good thing that he is able to be at Rocco’s side as he recovers. Although I am sure it is very comforting for Rocco to have his best friend with him during his convalescence, I cannot help but think that of the two of them, Franscen is most benefited by his dear friend’s constant company.”

“I think it will help him to see Rocco continuing to do well,” said Lennier quietly. “I…I know that when I am recovering from illness, it helps Delenn feel better that she is able to observe consistent trends as I mend. And I know that just being there to comfort me and take care of me helps her as well.” Thinking about Delenn made Lennier miss her again, but that was mitigated by the warmth that flooded his heart at the reminder of how deeply she cared for him. “Sometimes it is just enough to have the ones you love there with you so that you can see for yourself that they are all right. And to care for them and have them care for you back.”

Ambra’s gaze dropped to the floor with sadness, and Lennier felt immediately guilty. This whole turn in the conversation had been designed to stop Ambra feeling sad from whatever experience related to love and loved ones that was haunting her. But Lennier had not really changed the subject at all. He noticed with alarm the way the light caught in the corner of Ambra’s eye – a tear. She was crying. 

Ambra seemed too preoccupied with pulling herself back together to realize that he had noticed. Lennier could have let the matter go by uncommented again with relative ease, but he suddenly realized that he did not want to. It was astoundingly clear that Ambra was really suffering from whatever emotional turmoil she was experiencing, and if there was something Lennier could do to help her, then he very much wished to do it. If he could not do the physical service work he had intended to in coming here, then maybe he could serve in another way – by providing spiritual and emotional support.

“Ambra?” he asked softly. He saw her swallow and blink fiercely before slowly meeting his eyes.

“Yes?” There was the slightest flush of pink on her cheekbones.

“Please forgive my forwardness, but what is the matter? Every time the subject of having loved ones is brought up, you seem sad. Are you sad about your mother, or did you lose someone else close to you?”

Ambra’s bottom lip trembled slightly. “I do miss my mother, but she died a long time ago. You are correct, though – the parting that I think of so often as of late was more recent. It has been nearly five years, but I still miss him.”

“And has he been on your mind even more recently with all this talk of friendship and affection?” asked Lennier, suspecting he already knew the answer.

Ambra nodded. “Yes, though I think of him often regardless. I had hoped that over time, it would get easier. But it has not. I still miss him terribly.” She sighed shakily and felt whatever was in her pocket again for a couple of seconds. “I think perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I never really let go of the possibility that I might someday see him again. He is not passed beyond, you see. We are simply apart.”

“Then maybe someday you _can_ see him again,” Lennier said. “If it is a matter of not knowing where he is, I might know someone who can help you find him.” He did not doubt Vir or Londo would be more than willing to assist this young Centauri woman in finding the person she had lost. Vir would do it because he was a nice person and hated to see anyone in pain. Londo would probably say he would do it because Ambra was pretty, but Lennier knew that really he wished to alleviate suffering just as much as he or Vir or Delenn did, and because he loved his people and would never turn one of them away. Over the past couple of years, Lennier had come to know the Centauri ambassador as a friend, and had realized that while he certainly had his vices, when one looked past his bombastic exterior and admittedly fairly frequent mistakes there was a core of deep-seated goodness and a desire to do the right thing. Lennier had watched some of Londo’s internal struggles himself, and as the months passed that goodness seemed to win out more frequently over things like self-preservation and ambition. Yes, Londo could help, and he would. And likely even for the right reasons.

But to Lennier’s disappointment, Ambra shook her head. “It is not that. I know where he is. But he cannot know that I am looking for him.”

“But,” Lennier asked slowly, his discomfort at the forwardness and intimate nature of the topic at war with his innate desire to understand the situation, “if he loves you as much as you clearly love him, would he not be happy to find you again?”

Ambra closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. For a moment, she looked almost at peace, as though she was remembering another, happier time. Or perhaps she was imagining being reunited with the man she missed. But as she breathed out, it was replaced by a nostalgia and desire so intense that Lennier’s insides physically ached to see it.

“Yes,” Ambra whispered. “He would be _so_ happy. And so would I. But it cannot be. I left him for his own good – so that he could become the man he was meant to be.” She sighed wistfully. “He never thought himself capable of doing great things, of influencing the universe in a good way. But I always thought that he could.”

“And did he?” Lennier could not help but ask.

“I do not know,” Ambra said with sadness. “I have no idea what happened to him. We are so very isolated here. Even when we are not suffering the after-effects of a natural disaster, this small village and the ones near it do not have the technology to communicate with the rest of our world or monitor what is happening there. I can only hope and pray that he is well, and that he did what I am confident he could do.”

“I hope so, too.” Lennier smiled, and he managed to elicit a grateful smile back from Ambra.

“Thank you. Do you know, I came straight here after I left my love, and the first person I met was Franscen? I was just sitting at the edge of one of the fields outside the village, my knees tucked up beneath my chin, crying into them. And he found me and sat next to me and said he was sorry I had lost someone I loved. It startled me, of course – I had never met him before and said nothing to him about any of my problems. He explained about his talent, then, and apologized for the intrusion. But I was just grateful for his company – he stayed with me for quite awhile that day, just letting me cry. He never asked me to elaborate on my situation. In fact, he did not really say anything at all. He was just there for me.”

“His talent could drive someone to sequester themselves away from people in order to spare themselves pain,” Lennier reflected. “Franscen seems to do the opposite.”

“I try,” said a familiar voice from behind them. Shifting his weight gingerly on the bed, Lennier turned to see the newcomer, even though he knew exactly who they were.

Franscen looked mildly confused as he stepped through the flap of the tent. “I am flattered, but exactly what have I done to warrant being the subject of your conversation?”


	5. Under Love’s Heavy Burden I Do Sink

Ambra’s warm laugh rang throughout the tent as she stood and went to hug her friend. Though still clearly a bit puzzled, Franscen relaxed into her embrace and then returned it a moment later.

“It is good to see you looking better, Lennier,” he said after they had separated.

“’Better’ is a subjective term,” Lennier muttered. “But thank you anyway.”

“No, I mean it.” Franscen rested his hands on his hips, looking defiant but kind at the same time. “While the blisters are extremely uncomfortable – and trust me, I know they are from experience – they will be gone in a couple of days. It is the…” He paused, trying to think of the English word he wished to use, “…full-body effects of a bad sunburn that can take the most time to recover from. A fever like you had can keep you in bed for some time.”

“I am still far too weak for my liking,” murmured Lennier darkly, before heaving a deep sigh. “But I am feeling much better than I was. So I suppose I do not have just too much room to complain.” He exchanged a smile with the young Centauri. “Ambra was just telling me that Rocco is doing better as well. I am very glad to hear it.”

At the mention of his best friend, Franscen’s face lit up. Lennier supposed his own face looked like that whenever Delenn was mentioned. It was a look that said it did not truly matter how terrible things were in the rest of the world – if the person you loved the most in the world was all right, everything else somehow would be, too.

“Yes, he is well on his way to recovery. His leg still hurts, but he is healing from the blood loss. It is getting difficult for Giulina and I to keep him in bed. I have told every story about my time in the Capitol that I can possibly think of to keep him entertained, and we have played more rounds of “Catch the Treel” than I have ever played in my life. My deck of cards is wearing out. But I will play ‘Catch the Treel’ until I die of boredom if it means Rocco is safe and well.” His voice caught as the thought of just how close that had come to not being the case caught up with him.

“You’re a good friend,” Lennier told him softly. “I am sure your attention and care mean the world to Rocco.”

Franscen blinked fiercely, but a couple of tears escaped from the very corners of his eyes anyway. “We would not be having this…” He paused to consider what words to use in the language that was not his own. “…This conversation if not for you, Lennier. You saved his life and I owe you everything for that. That is why I came here – to thank you. Nothing I can possibly do will even begin to make up for what you did, but I have to at least try to say how grateful I am.”

“It’s all right,” Lennier reassured him. “You don’t have to thank me. I did what anyone would have done.”

“They would not have, though.” Franscen countered with a shake of his head. “You could have just bandaged the wound and then found shade. But you did not leave him. He would have been so afraid if he had been alone through all of that. I am glad that he had someone there with him. He…he was hurting so much. He could hardly breathe for the pain. And he was so scared.” Franscen stared at the floor, blinking fiercely, and then ran a forearm across his eyes.

“And you felt every bit of his pain as if it was your own,” Lennier said. Franscen sniffled and nodded. “That must have been incredibly hard for you – trying to handle both Rocco’s pain and your own fear. That you were able to push past all of it to go and get help is deserving of commendation. I know how hard it must have been to leave him.” And he did. Whenever Lennier was very sick, Delenn stayed at his side nearly constantly because she knew how much he relied on her comfort. But there had been times, rare though they were, that Delenn needed to leave him – for example, when the fate of their world had hung in the balance. The look on her face as she left had showed that her heart was breaking. She hated being forced to choose between her duties and her dearest friend, and her heart screamed for her to stay with him and give him the comfort he needed. And even though Lennier would try to be strong, every moment he spent without her was just trying to hold on until her return. Franscen had not known if he would ever see his best friend alive again when he had left them by the river. The agony of that and the gravity of his choice must have been unbearable.

Franscen shuddered a little. “I thought I would not be able to do it. I could not let him die without me at his side. But then I realized that if I did not go, he _would_ die. If I went for help, at least he would have a chance to survive. I had to give him that chance.”

“You did very well,” Lennier assured him. “You did the right thing, and I am sure Rocco is appreciative.”

“He is,” Franscen said, finally managing a smile. “He has told me the same thing you have. He understands that for all the pain I experienced that day, the worst of it came from leaving him. And he is grateful that I made the choice I did. Just as he – and I – are grateful to you.”

“I am just glad it all turned out for the better,” sighed Lennier, uncomfortably aware that he himself was not completely guaranteed to be all right yet. But he would not upset Franscen further with that possibility.

“And you will have quite the story to tell your friends back on…what was the name of your space station? Babylon 5,” Franscen chuckled. As Lennier smiled at him, he saw that behind Frascen, Ambra, who had been folding laundry, suddenly stopped and stood still. There was an aching recognition in her eyes, and Lennier knew without a single doubt that this was not the first time she had heard of Babylon 5. Moreover, she had emotion associated with it. From the look on her face, he was suspicious that it might have something to do with the lover she had let go but still missed. After a moment, Ambra seemed to collect herself, regaining the strength and presence of mind to continue with her task. Lennier wondered if she knew he had noticed what had happened.

Franscen apparently picked up on Ambra’s discomfort as well – if her emotions were strong enough to make her stop everything she was doing and be completely unable to function, if even for only a few moments, then they were undoubtedly strong enough for his telepathy to pick up. The smile faded from Franscen’s face and he turned surreptitiously to glance at Ambra out of the corner of his eye, his voluminous eyebrows furrowed in concern. But Ambra continued to stare unwaveringly at the laundry, seeming to be purposefully focusing on it and absolutely nothing else. Franscen turned his gaze back to Lennier, sadness in his eyes.

“Anyway, I…suppose I should be going. I don’t want Rocco to get lonely without me.” He forced a laugh. It was almost painful to hear.

“Yes,” agreed Lennier. “I am sure he will be glad to have your company back.”

Franscen’s smile returned for a moment. “Yes. Thank you again, Lennier. I hope someday I can begin to repay what you have given me.”

Before Lennier could begin to reassure him that this was entirely unnecessary, Franscen had left the tent, leaving Lennier alone with Ambra. She was still hyperfocused folding her laundry – she had a sheet lifted into the air and was folding it with great finesse. She still seemed to be deliberately not looking at him.

Lennier felt torn. He had such a strong innate desire to help and reassure and try to make things better for other people, which he attributed vastly to his Religious Caste upbringing and also his time with Delenn, who nurtured and encouraged these natural tendencies. But when he and Ambra had been speaking about her lost love just before Franscen had arrived, the conversation had seemed to make her very sad, and she was obviously still quite emotional. Lennier did not wish to make that worse by speaking of the topic further, particularly since Ambra seemed so convinced that no matter what, this unnamed person was better served by never seeing her again. 

But Lennier had once been convinced that someone he loved would be better served by never seeing _him_ again. And he thanked the universe every single day that that person had convinced him otherwise. Ambra was too kind and gentle a person to be condemned to this existence for the rest of her life. She deserved to have the kind of happiness he had with Delenn.

“Ambra?” he asked softly, plaintively, trying not to seem threatening in any way.

Ambra placed the half-folded sheet down on a chair. “I will make you some more tea,” she said without looking over at him. Her voice held a sharpness he had not heard before. It seemed like it did not belong to her, and Lennier’s heart twisted from empathy.

The night Lennier had told Delenn that he would spend the rest of his life one small cut away from a feverish death and that he planned to separate himself from her forever for her own good was something that would haunt his memories for as long as he lived. He never, ever wanted to feel that way again – the breathless agony and horrible, stomach-turning anticipation and grief like he had never known had been worse than the throes of near-death he had experienced several weeks before. The memories came floating back to the surface of his consciousness, and he swallowed, as though physically trying to push them back down. But Ambra had saved his life, and now she was suffering – he _had_ to help her.

He drew a breath in. “The person you left – he is on Babylon 5, isn’t he?”

Ambra stopped in her tracks again, just as she had when Franscen had first mentioned the station. For a moment, Lennier thought she would continue making tea as she seemed so intent on doing. She seemed to be waiting for the shocks of a planetquake within her heart to disburse. A moment later, however, Lennier saw her knees start to tremble. She grabbed the back of the chair next to his bed, and then carefully lowered herself into it. She clasped her hands together in her lap so tightly that her knuckles went white, and she blinked furiously.

Lennier cast his gaze downward in deferent apology. “Please forgive my forwardness. I know this must be a very private matter, but…”

“You want to help.” Ambra sighed shakily. “Of course you do. Even without hearing Delenn’s assessment of you, I could have guessed that you and I are very much alike. We see someone hurting and we _have_ to try everything within our power to make it better. Because there is too much suffering in the world for us to stand by and not try to make a difference.” She looked at him with a combination of sadness and appreciation. Then she pulled her knees up to her chin, as Lennier had seen Delenn do on occasion when she was upset or under stress. When Ambra spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “You are correct. The love I spoke of before – the man I left – he is on Babylon 5. I did not realize that is where you and Delenn are from – Raston did not mention it, so I assumed you were from Minbar.”

“We are,” Lennier clarified. “But we have lived on Babylon 5 for several years. Delenn is the ambassador for our home planet to the station. I am her diplomatic aide.”

Ambra nodded automatically, but her gaze was distant.

“Ambassador,” she murmured. “Yes.”

“I think I can help you find him – the man you left,” Lennier said again, his desire to help reflected in the earnestness of his tone. His heart sank when Ambra shook her head.

“I am sorry, Lennier. But I am afraid it truly is for the better if he and I continue to remain apart.”

“Then perhaps I could send him a message? At least to tell him you are well.”

“No. He must not even hear mention of me. Much depends upon him, and my absence motivates him to do the right thing. And he must continue to do so; therefore, he must hear nothing of me.” Ambra’s hand was in her pocket again, Lennier saw.

“I cannot imagine that anyone’s existence would be improved by your absence, Ambra,” Lennier said.

She shook her head. “It is difficult to explain. I am sorry.”

The memories Lennier had been trying to keep at bay surfaced again, and as difficult as it was, Lennier knew that it was time to share them.

“You don’t have to explain. I understand,” he murmured. 

Ambra regarded him dubiously, but when she spoke her tone was kind. “With much respect, my friend, I suspect you do not. But you should be glad of that.”

Lennier shook his head, his blistered skin causing him a slight pain as he moved his neck. “I _do_ understand,” he repeated gently. “Because…” He drew a shaky breath. Even though that terrible night had happened three years ago and had ended at least partially well, talking about it was still considerably more painful than he would have expected. Ambra saw the pain that it caused him, and she suddenly looked rather humble at not having believed him.

“Delenn told you about my condition?”

Ambra nodded without speaking. She obviously intended to listen very closely to his story, and he was appreciative of that.

“We discovered it after I went through a period of very severe illness. The lack of antibodies in my body resulted in sepsis, and because the doctor could not figure out why I was getting worse even with antibiotic therapy, I very nearly died. And Delenn…” His voice cracked as he recalled his deathbed vision, during which he had been able to glimpse his dearest friend in real time despite being unconscious. The memories of watching Delenn try desperately to get through to him, speaking words of reassurance while weeping from her own overwhelming grief, and being unable to reach her were some of the most upsetting he could possibly call to mind. But this was important – he had to make Ambra see that she was making a mistake. So he persevered. “Watching what my illness did to her, how much she worried about me and how much it hurt her to see _me_ hurt, was even worse than my physical symptoms. And so when I got the news that it could all very well happen over and over again, I did not want to put her through that. I love Delenn so much, and I’ve always taken it upon myself to protect her in any way that I can, even though many times she can take care of herself just fine,” he said with a soft, affectionate chuckle, and Ambra smiled a little along with him. “But I felt so guilty about what she had suffered watching me be ill and caring for me that I staunchly resolved never to do that to her again. But the only way I could think of to accomplish that was to cut her out of my life entirely. I thought that if she never saw me or heard from me, eventually she would forget about me and not have to worry about how I was faring. She would be happier without me.” He cursed the way his bottom lip trembled and reached up to wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye, trying not to wince at the pain the movement caused his burnt shoulder. Though his vision was blurry with liquid, he could see that tears were forming in Ambra’s eyes as well as she realized just how their stories paralleled.

“What…what happened?” she whispered tremulously.

Lennier took one long breath and then exhaled with equal slowness. “In her own kind, loving way, she made me see how wrong I was. In all my emotions and guilt, I was so convinced that I was doing the right thing, even though the thought of never seeing Delenn again broke my heart so thoroughly that I know I would never have recovered from it. But she showed me how much I underestimated the depth of our relationship – even if she were to never so much as hear my name again, she would always worry about me. I was foolish to think she would forget about me or stop loving or caring about me just because we were apart. And she would miss me terribly. So either way I would hurt her, and there was nothing I could do to stop that. So since we were going to suffer anyway, we might as well suffer at each others’ side, with each others’ support and comfort.” Lennier closed his eyes for a moment, remembering that revelation and the overwhelming relief he had felt at the knowledge that he did not have to leave Delenn, who was his solid foundation and his strength and his comforter, after all. That night he had cried for hours until he had, at long last, fallen asleep in Delenn’s arms. It had been one of the worst days of his life – he had, after all, received the news that he had a very serious health problem which he would be dealing with for the remainder of his days and which could claim his life at any point. But he had been able to cope with it because he knew Delenn would stay by his side every step of the way.

Lennier had been staring off into the distance as he spoke, trying to focus on the wall of the tent in order to hold back the flow of tears. But now he met Ambra’s eyes. “If the person you are missing truly loves you, then the distance between you can only hurt, not help. Because no matter how long you’re apart, he will always miss you.”

Ambra blinked away her tears and then pressed her face into her knees. Lennier’s heart somersaulted at the knowledge that his words had caused such emotion in her. After watching her tremble ever so slightly for a couple of minutes, he reached his arm out, biting down on his bottom lip to distract himself from the pain the movement caused him. It was worth it, though, because he was able to lay his hand on Ambra’s arm. She jumped slightly at the unexpected contact, then looked up at him, alternating using both arms to wipe tears away from her eyes. For a moment, there was conflict in her gaze, and she opened her mouth, as though to say something. She seemed on the brink of making some momentous decision, and Lennier was highly suspicious that that decision was to ask him to try to find her long-lost lover. But then she closed her mouth again and lowered her gaze. Lennier’s heart sank as he removed his hand from her arm, and guilt at the amount he had worsened her pain racked him.

“I am sorry for being so forward and giving you unsolicited advice,” he said. “I promise that this is very much an aberration for me. It is only that I am so grateful to you for saving my life and for the wonderful care you have given me over the past few days. I do not like to see anyone hurt, as you said, but especially not someone as kind as you. I know that if I had left Delenn forever when I got my diagnosis, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life. I do not want that to happen to you, Ambra. I wish…I wish for you to be spared that kind of pain. You do not deserve it, and somehow I doubt the person you are missing deserves it, either.” Lennier, having finally said all he needed to, went quiet then. He was trembling a little with emotion and the exertion of his long speech, and he suddenly felt very tired. But he had said everything he wanted to. Now all he could do was hope that it had helped.

As Lennier slumped bonelessly into his pillows, Ambra returned his earlier gesture by gently resting her hand on the top of his, which was essentially the only place on his upper body that was not fried to a crisp. Lennier knew from his friendships with Vir and Londo that the Centauri were an extremely tactile people. The Minbari were, as well. The difference was his own people tended to express emotion through touch only with people they knew well – it fit with their species’ innate desire for privacy and personal space. Centauri touched _everyone_. With Londo and Vir at least, this tended to take the form of strong, bone-crushing hugs. Ambra was gentler, for which Lennier’s battered body was immensely thankful. But her touch seemed almost Minbari-like. It was as though it was reserved for a friend, which meant that Lennier had not hurt Ambra so badly that she no longer wished to associate with him. At least he had not ruined _everything_.

“You need not apologize, Lennier – it is all right. I can tell that this is not an easy thing for you to talk about, and I appreciate you sharing such a deep and personal story to try to help me.”

She removed her hand from his and clasped it with her other tightly in front of her. That sense of conflict had returned to her eyes, but it seemed to Lennier that this time she seemed to be a bit in awe, as if she had discovered something she could not quite believe.

“I…I will think on the matter.” Her tone was dubious, but as several seconds past, her expression suddenly began to morph into one of awe and even joy at the possibilities for the future. “I will think about it,” she said again.

“Good,” whispered Lennier. “I am very glad.” He took a deep breath and let it out again, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders. He _had_ made a difference, as much as it had cost him. And it certainly had cost him – he suddenly could barely keep his eyes open. But that was all right – his task was done for now. He could allow himself to rest, and when he woke Delenn would be there with him.

And that was exactly what happened.

 

 

“Lie still, _Ker’maier Ard’ka_. I am right here.”

“You’re back,” Lennier murmured drowsily as he opened his eyes and stopped the stirring he had not even realized he was doing as he returned to wakefulness. He was still a little sleepy, but that seemed to be resolving by the second as his happiness at Delenn’s return heightened. “I missed you.”

“And I worried about you all day long,” Delenn admitted. Lennier automatically cringed internally a little, his innate guilt at being the cause of any sort of negative emotion or anxiety in Delenn flooding into his consciousness before he could stop it. But then, with considerable effort, he put it aside. Delenn hating seeing him hurt just as much as the other way around, and so if he was allowed to miss her, then he supposed she was allowed to worry about him. But he still detested the thought of it.

“I’m all right,” he reassured her. “I haven’t had a fever as of yet, and as you can see I’ve been getting plenty of rest.”

“Good, Lennier. Thank you for being so patient. I know it is difficult and you have to endure this far too often.” Delenn rubbed Lennier’s knuckles comfortingly.

She was right, of course, but her grateful smile made every boring and frustrating second confined to bed so very worth it.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to be able to resume my duties as quickly as possible,” he said.

Delenn looked affectionately pedantic. “Apparently I have not been as successful as I thought in teaching you that life is not just about work.”

He chuckled. “I also meant my duties as a friend.”

“Ah. Well, you are doing just fine with that already. But don’t let that dampen your motivation to get well.”

“Never you worry,” he said with a smile, and she pressed his hand. “How was your service today?”

Delenn settled back in her chair, looking thoughtful. “It went very well, on more levels that one. After what happened to you, the villagers are all _very_ determined to keep me out of the sun. Although I suppose I did not put up much of a fight – I will admit that while I do love spending time in the sun at home, here its rays are intense enough that I just cannot seem to enjoy them, no matter how hard I try.”

“I have come to firmly believe that Minbari are not built for this climate,” laughed Lennier. “Though I suppose we cannot say we were not warned.” Londo and Vir had tried very hard to make sure their friends stayed safe. And while he was happily anticipating seeing his other friends again, Lennier was _not_ looking forward to the look on Vir’s face when he saw how awful his friend looked.

“At Raston’s suggestion, I helped to repair some of the tent covers that were damaged by the storm. There was a bit of a learning curve, and the strangest feeling. The only other time in my entire life I have sewed anything, it was when the priests made me mend robes for hours without end back when I was in temple.”

Lennier looked at her curiously. “That sounds like punishment.”

Delenn laughed. “Oh, it was. You did not know me in those days, Lennier. I was an impertinent, precocious young Minbari. My teachers all saw my potential, and therefore they were careful to nurture the parts of my personality that would serve me well in the future, like good teachers should. But occasionally, I became a bit too much for some of the less patient amongst them.”

Lennier automatically felt defensive of Delenn, whose aforementioned personality traits were part of what made her his mentor and role model and dearest friend. How dare anyone, even the superior Religious Caste Minbari he was hard-wired from birth to respect, ever punish her for those things? But then he heard Delenn’s golden, ringing laugh and saw the fond reflection in her eyes, and he realized that these experiences, like so many others in her past, had been a part of what had shaped her into the Delenn he loved today. And that made him smile, too.

“I am assuming that that is when the mending occurred?”

“Yes. And sometimes, when the task was taking me too long to complete and the endeavor lasted into the night, Draal would sneak in and help me. He was always far better at textile arts than I.” An expression of saddened nostalgia crossed her face at the mention of her old mentor and friend, who had given the remainder of his existence to keeping the inhabitants of Babylon 5 safe. Even though he was still alive, Draal’s habitation of the Great Machine meant that Delenn rarely got the opportunity to speak with him. Though Lennier himself had never met Draal, he knew how much the old priest meant to Delenn, and it felt as though Lennier was missing him right along with her.

After a moment, Delenn’s eyes cleared and she returned to her reflections of the day. “Anyhow, the work did not go quite as slowly as I had anticipated, though I suppose that likely had something to do with the fact that the villagers are not nearly as picky about the appearance of their tents as the priests were about their robes.” She laughed at that. “After awhile I did not have to concentrate quite so much on what I was doing, and I was able to talk with some of the villagers. They are good people, Lennier. There were a couple of villagers with me who spoke English, and they interpreted for the others who did not. They spoke of how grateful they are to the two of us for coming here to help them recover from the storm. It seems as though it is amazing to them that anyone, especially someone from another planet, would take interest in the wellbeing of their forgotten, remote little village. They asked after your health and expressed how thankful they are to you for saving the life of one of their own.” Lennier lowered his eyes for a moment in humble embarrassment.

“They told me about their lives,” Delenn continued. “They all come from simple beginnings. I must admit that my knowledge of the Centauri Empire and its people is based vastly off of what I have learned from talking with Londo and Vir and all of the political happenings we have dealt with recently. And while of course while Londo has had his personal stumbling steps, he and Vir are both good people as well. But despite that, I must admit that my overall impression of the Centauri people as a whole was less than shining. But I realize now that my perspective was limited to the ruling class. I am ashamed to admit that I should have known better – the Centauri are not, after all, the only race whose political rulers are afflicted with corruption to the detriment of their constituents. But today I learned more about the Centauri as a people. They are much like us in so many ways, Lennier – proud of their heritage and their world and caring about those they love. They are considerably more boisterous overall than Minbari, of course, but all the same I now see more familiarity in them than I do strangeness. Today reminded me that we are all children of the universe. After all the troubles our worlds have seen over the past few years, it was a welcome reminder.”

“They are so very much like us,” Lennier murmured thoughtfully. He looked around, realizing for the first time since he had woken - and immediately been consumed with the fact that Delenn was back at his bedside - that their host was not in the tent. “Delenn, have you seen Ambra?”

Delenn blinked disconcertedly at the abrupt change in topic, but she answered him. “Not since I returned, but it has only been about half an hour.”

Lennier nodded, satisfied that Ambra was not close enough to hear him. He was acutely aware that what he was about to do was, by definition, gossiping. And he did not particularly like the idea of gossiping – Lennier himself was a very private person, and the idea of someone he barely knew talking about his personal affairs behind his back made him very uncomfortable. But he had asked Delenn for advice on how to help people they both cared about in the past, and it had ultimately had very good results. Specifically, it had resulted in two of their friends finding love in one another. And he was troubled by how upset Ambra was, and Delenn was the person he tended to confide in and turn to for comfort by far the most.

“Delenn, Ambra left someone she loves very much on Babylon 5. She misses him terribly, but for reasons she will not confide in me, she believes him better off without her. But she’s hurting, Delenn. She’s hurting terribly.”

“What…?” Delenn looked a bit take aback by this sudden onslaught of information. “Lennier, how do you know any of this?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I ought to know by now that I should never question your perceptiveness, only trust it. Nor should I question your capacity – not to mention your very strong tendency – to care deeply for essentially every individual you encounter. It may someday be your downfall, but it is one of the very many things I love so much about you.”

Lennier glowed at her words, meeting her eyes rather than lowering his own. It had taken him a very long time to reach the point where he could do that, because it had meant a complete departure from the fundamental cultural etiquette he had been taught for as long as he could remember. But his relationship with Delenn was so deep that often they could say just as much with their eyes as with words, and sometimes even more than that. His ability to look her in the eyes signified that they were equals, and even though he still viewed her as his mentor and was devoted to serving her, more than anything Lennier valued his friendship with Delenn. And he knew that _this_ came across in his gaze quite frequently.

But there was another topic yet at hand.

“Ambra is hurting very badly. She has been so good to me – to the both of us. Someone such as her does not deserve that kind of pain. I…I told her about the night I found out about my condition. About how you saved me from making such an awful mistake because I thought that leaving you would be better for you. She has made that mistake already, Delenn. And it’s tearing her apart.”

Delenn chewed her bottom lip for a moment, looking troubled. “And you think we can help her because this man is on Babylon 5, correct? We can find him and bring them back together and make her see that she is wrong, and they will live their lives happily together?”

Lennier’s shoulders sagged. “When you word it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

He perked up a little when the corners of Delenn’s mouth twitched upward. “On the contrary, I think it sounds very romantic. And that, along with all of the true things you said about Ambra, makes trying to help very tempting.” She sighed. “You know, Lennier, a better person would keep her meddling nose out of other people’s private affairs, even when her very well-meaning best friend tries to convince her to meddle.”

“A lesser person would not care enough to meddle to save someone’s heart and soul,” Lennier corrected with gentle affection.

Delenn seemed to deflate. “This is hopeless. Utterly hopeless. You know I absolutely cannot refuse when you say things like that?”

Horrified that he had made it seem as though he was trying to force Delenn into something she did not want to do, Lennier opened his mouth to apologize. But Delenn waved him into silence.

“It is all right, Lennier. I adore your sweetness, and I trust your perception.”

As Lennier smiled a thank-you, Delenn crossed her arms over her chest, clearly deep in thought. “So your plan was to talk to Londo, yes? Statistically, this mysterious stranger is most likely Centauri. And since Londo is the Centauri ambassador to Babylon 5, he is the single person most likely to have the information we need.”

Lennier nodded, noting that the action seemed to hurt just a touch less than before as it stretched his skin. “That was my thought, yes. Even if he does not know our mystery person himself, he will have the resources to find him.”

Lennier quickly silenced when the tent flap opened and Ambra entered, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables which reminded Lennier a little bit of _glomo_ fruit, or Earth zucchini. She smiled at Lennier and Delenn when she walked in, but Lennier thought her smile seemed a bit more subdued than normal. At the very least, however, the smile’s presence told him that she likely had not overheard them talking about her personal life. Lennier felt yet another stab of guilt in his chest.

“Delenn,” Ambra greeted. “You have returned. I am sure Lennier is very glad of this.”

“Thank you,” Delenn said. “And thank you for taking such good care of Lennier and keeping him company. We are both very appreciative.”

“I have the ability to help in this situation. I myself have been in need of help before, and would have been lost had I not received it. I feel it is only right to pass on the gesture.”

Lennier and Delenn exchanged a meaningful glance, but before either of them could think of how to resurrect the topic of Ambra’s lost love in a way that would upset her as little as possible, Ambra surprised them both.

“I know what you are thinking. Delenn, I am sure Lennier has told you about our conversation from earlier today. And it is all right, Lennier – you do not have to feel badly about telling her. I know you trust her and look up to her and turn to her for comfort, and I can tell how much the way my story parallels your own has upset you. I am sorry about that.”

Lennier felt sick to his stomach. “Ambra, I’m sorry…” All he could manage was a cracked whisper. How _could_ he have betrayed her confidence like that? Even though Ambra had not expressly asked him to keep her story a secret, it was clearly extremely personal and he had absolutely no right to tell other people about it without her permission, even Delenn. Lennier triangled his hands and lowered his gaze as far as it would go, shame pulsating through every inch of him.

“Lennier, it is all right. I mean it.” Ambra’s voice was far more gentle than he deserved. “It is very sweet that you care so much and want to help so badly, especially when you are still quite unwell yourself.”

Lennier swallowed hard. He thought about looking up, but found he could not yet. It would probably take at least a good several minutes before he was able.

“I am sorry as well, Ambra,” Delenn said. “We Religious Caste are so very trained and eager to help, but this really is none of our business.”

“Please do not apologize,” Ambra urged. “I am glad that the gods have brought us together because it has at least given me the option of looking for the love I lost. We are so far removed from any technology in this place that even had I decided it best to search for him previously, doing so would have been nearly impossible.”

“And…how close are you to selecting that option?” Delenn sounded as though she was selecting her words with great care. Lennier remembered from his conversation with Ambra earlier that day that she had said she planned to think on the matter. Despite his deep shame and humiliation, he looked up at the Centauri woman, eager to see if she had made up her mind.

Ambra drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have been thinking on this matter the entire afternoon, and I am afraid that I still do not know the answer to that question. My love had a great many very important things to do, and my leaving helped him to do them. Due to the remoteness of our village, I do not know if those things have been accomplished.”

“Maybe we can find out if they have,” Delenn said gently. “If knowing what events have or have not occurred will help you in your decision, then we can start there. We can find a way to get the information to you – leave that to us. We would not have to let this person know of our inquiries, if you do not wish it.”

Ambra sighed shakily. “I am afraid that that is impossible. The moment you started your search, he would know.”

Lennier finally spoke up, trying frantically to put the pieces of what she was saying together like a puzzle in his mind. “Why?”

Ambra’s hand was inside her pocket yet again. Lennier could see her fingers moving back and forth beneath the fabric. Then, after several seconds, resolve settled on her face, and she withdrew her hand and laid it in a fist on the bed. When she opened her fingers, a beautiful brooch, a silver star with a red center, was revealed. It was by far the most valuable-looking thing Lennier had seen anywhere in this village. Just looking at it, Lennier suspected it was probably worth more than the belongings of all the villagers combined.

“Because of this,” Ambra whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling.

Delenn delicately removed the piece of jewelry from Ambra’s hand and held it up to examine it. Lennier saw her mouth open, then close then open again, as though she could not think of what to say.

“Ambra,” she managed finally, her gray eyes wide. “This is the emblem of House Mollari.”


	6. For Never Was a Story of More Woe

Lennier looked from Ambra, to Delenn, to the brooch, and back to Ambra again, his heart pounding at what felt like several light years per second. Vir had told him of the Lady Adira, the dancer and former slave who had been the love of Londo’s life. And while Londo still loved her desperately, that love could no longer be reciprocated, because Adira had been killed three years ago by Morden. It was impossible for her to be standing right in front of him.

Wasn’t it?

Delenn articulated Lennier’s thoughts better and faster than his shocked and admittedly still tired brain could manage.

“Unless you did not receive that brooch directly from Londo himself, as you imply, then the fact that you possess it makes you the Lady Adira. But perhaps you can enlighten me on a couple of things, because while I know the Centauri have some special abilities that other races do not, I did not think that resurrection from the dead was one of them.”

Ambra – Adira – sank down onto a stool, looking exhausted. Lennier did not blame her – she had been experiencing many emotions today, and Lennier knew firsthand how tiring that could be.

“The two of you are the first people I have ever told about this,” she whispered. “I have kept the secret of who I am for three long years. I hid my true identity both for my own safety and for Londo’s good. But then you came to the village, and somehow I know I can trust you.”

“We are friends of Londo’s,” said Lennier softly. “We will not betray your secret, we promise.” And even though he had not exactly given Adira reason to believe his ability to keep a secret recently, she smiled at him.

“I trust him, and I trust you.” She adjusted her position on the stool uneasily. “You were correct, Delenn. For all intents and purposes, everyone alive thinks Adira Tyree is dead. Except for, now, you two.”

Lennier harkened back to the shuttle ride to the village several days previously, when Vir had spoken of Londo’s relationship with his home planet. _“A lot of bad stuff has happened on Centauri Prime for Londo. The Shadows being here, Emperor Cartagia…And it’s where he found out about, well…never mind.”_ Vir had stopped talking then, leaving Lennier to wonder what exactly it was that Londo had found out about that Vir had not wanted to mention. But now Lennier realized that the incident Vir had been referring to was very likely the day Londo had discovered about the true circumstances of Adira’s death – that she had been killed not by Londo’s political rival, Refa, but rather by the nefarious Shadow affiliate, Morden, whom Londo had angered by cutting ties with him. Lennier had no doubts that Londo blamed himself and his actions for Adira’s death, making him feel the agony of her death all over again, amplified by his own guilt.

“Doctor Franklin did an autopsy,” Delenn said. She did not look skeptical – she believed that Adira was indeed who she said she was. She merely looked fascinated and excited at the prospect of having found their friend’s lover, thought for so long to be gone forever.

Adira looked hesitant. “Not…not exactly.”

Delenn’s furrowed her eyebrows while Lennier continued to rack his brain for possible explanations. Adira held up her hand at Delenn’s pending next question.

“I will explain,” she said. Delenn sat back in her chair, satisfied.

Adira’s voice shook intermittently, and Lennier felt terrible that she should feel obligated to tell what was likely a lengthy story when it was this upsetting to her. But by this point it was vital to all three of them that he and Delenn understand. But Adira saw him watching her with wide and apologetic eyes, and she smiled at him, which made Lennier in turn feel a little better.

“It all happened, really, because of your Vorlon,” Adira began.

“Kosh.” Delenn’s voice held a combination of wonder and sadness as she spoke the departed Vorlon’s name, glancing at Lennier as she did so. “I cannot say I am surprised.”

“Yes. Kosh knew, through means any of us can only guess, that Morden intended to take my life that day in order to get revenge on Londo for severing their relationship.” Her voice cracked when she spoke Londo’s name, as though the pain of having left him and missing him was just as fresh now as when it had first happened. “So many things depended on Londo – he was the one our people listened to, and he was the one whose actions had brought the Centauri into the Shadows’ terrible game in the first place. So _he_ had to be the one to fix everything. But for that he needed motivation. I was to be that motivation. Even though Kosh was disgusted with the choices Londo had made, he still thought there might be hope for him with the right push – and that push was to lose the love of his life.”

“That’s horrible,” whispered Lennier. He had always known that Vorlons cared very little for feelings over action, but all the same Adira’s words set his insides to feelings like they were being balled up and tied into knots.

“Londo _did_ make mistakes – bad mistakes. I will not deny that,” Adira said. “But I loved him – I _love_ him – even so. And he did not deserve to think I was dead. But it worked. Through my death, Londo gained enough motivation to deal with both Refa and Morden. But perhaps the strangest part of it is, Kosh could so easily have let me die. Die for real – for good. What was I but a pawn in his great game? Vorlons do not care about fate of their pawns. But Kosh did. Though he held little faith in the Centauri people as a whole, Kosh saw no reason for me to die. I was innocent, and so far I had not posed a threat to his cause. So he helped me stage my death in a way that was believable to everyone – Morden, the Royal Court, and…and Londo.”

She inhaled shakily, and Delenn rested a hand over hers in comfort. Lennier struggled often with guilt and abhorrence that stemmed from hurting the people he loved, even though for the most part there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He knew the pain Adira was feeling now, and his heart ached for her.

Lennier and Delenn gave Adira the time she needed to feel able to continue with her story. Lennier wanted to ask just how she had managed to accomplish faking her death so convincingly – a difficult feat, to be sure, even with the help of the universe’s most philanthropic Vorlon. But even more than he wanted answers, he wanted Adira to feel comfortable and up to giving them.

His patience was rewarded. After a minute of sitting in silence with Delenn’s hand on top of hers, several shaky breaths later, Adira continued her story.

“Morden intended to have me killed that day, and Kosh knew it. So he not only had to make it seem like I was dead, but that it had happened in the way in which Morden intended to kill me. And since Morden intended to frame my murder on Lord Refa, he chose the method most commonly employed for such things by my people – poison. Kosh contacted me before I left Dabo to come to Babylon 5 to visit Londo and told me of what was to happen. I was, of course, mortified and very frightened to hear all of this. I had been speaking to Londo, of course, but he never really talked of his involvement in what was happening with the government or the Shadows or any of the current events. He always wanted to talk about…me, really. He hardly ever talked about himself. When I asked him about it, he always told me that he had too much of thinking about himself and hearing about himself in his everyday life. When he was talking to me – that was a special time. And he wanted to hear about special things. And when I asked him what kind of special things he meant, he said that every part of my life was a special thing.”

Lennier smiled. So it turned out Londo was not only a flirt, but also a genuine romantic. When Lennier had observed the Centauri ambassador interact with women before – the waitresses at the Dark Star the time Londo had half-tricked, half-convinced Lennier to go that particular establishment, for example – it had always seemed as though Londo was playing and having fun, but he was never really serious in his attempts to appeal to them. But what Adira was describing sounded very different. It sounded real.

“Morden’s plan was to plant the poison into the food I was to be served on the shuttle. Kosh instructed me to act as though I was eating the food, but of course not actually ingest any. Instead, he provided me with a chemical of his own, this one to put into a drink. It would make me sleep so deeply that my life signs would be undetectable, even to the most sophisticated medical equipment.”

“A draught of the living death. Like _Romeo and Juliet_!” Lennier exclaimed almost before he realized he was doing so. Delenn and Adira both looked at him curiously.

“ _Romeo and Juliet_?” asked Adira curiously.

“Yes,” Lennier said. “It is a play by the ancient Earth writer William Shakespeare. Marcus is a great fan of his work, and he recommended it to me, saying it was a quintessential tome in the understanding of human culture. It is a tragedy – two young lovers are kept apart by a feud between their families. It ends with one of them drinking a draught of the living death, intending to wake up and run away with her lover when he came to visit her in the crypt. But he thinks she is really dead, and takes his own life out of grief. It is quite a sad story.” When, upon completion of his reading, Lennier had asked Marcus why he had recommended that particular story when Lennier had asked for reading to assist him in his never-ending quest to learn as much as he could about other races, his friend had said something about it being a pivotal foundation of the human perception of devotion. And that Marcus himself was a romantic so of course he was going to recommend it.

Delenn looked fond and somewhat amused at this tale of their mutual friend, but said nothing.

“That _is_ sad,” murmured Adira. “As difficult as these past three years have been, I must admit I am very glad that Londo’s and my story did not end up as that of those two young lovers.”

“Yes.” Lennier regretted mentioning it a bit now, cursing his tendency to not be able to resist talking about his interests if they were mentioned or alluded to. As sad as it was, he had enjoyed _Romeo and Juliet_ , but when Adira was telling the story of her nearly-averted murder and leading her lover to think she was dead had probably not been the most appropriate time to bring it up. But luckily, if anything Adira seemed a little encouraged by the anecdote, as though it had reassured her that what had happened to her and Londo was not actually the worst possible outcome.

“Please, go on,” Lennier urged Adira.

Adira nodded. “Once your Doctor Franklin had pronounced me certainly dead, he took me to a secluded area of Medlab to do an autopsy – to cut me open and find out exactly what had killed me. But Kosh’s aide, Lyta, stopped by out of what she said was ‘curiosity’. Despite the doctor’s strong protests, she took me away and erased Doctor Franklin’s memory of the entire incident and implanted a false on of an autopsy that showed I had been poisoned to death. That was the proof everyone needed to believe that I was dead, and dead in the way I was supposed to be. Morden was satisfied that he had killed me according to his plan, the Centarum would be able to discover the truth of my death at the proper time, and my Londo had the motivation he needed to oust Refa and ultimately to rid our world of the Shadows’ influence.” Her breath hitched, but she managed to continue without breaking down. “After that, I awoke and was smuggled out here, to an extremely remote part of Centauri Prime. With the skills I learned from my mother - which was an entirely true story, in case you were concerned – I have been an active member of the community of this small village for the past three years. No one knows where I came from, but no one has questioned it despite the fact that they likely have not received another new member from the world outside these tents in many years. They are a kind, caring, and accepting people, and I am forever grateful to them for allowing me to stay here. They do not know it, but they are protecting my life, as well as the lives of many others.”

Adira leaned the wall behind where she sat and shut her eyes for a moment, looking utterly drained by the telling of her story. Lennier understood that feeling very well - he had felt like that earlier that day when he had told her of the time he had almost left Delenn forever. Part of the problem had been his state of physical compromise, he knew. But summoning up memories of such intense emotion and trying to get through a story without breaking down…it was exhausting. Delenn glanced back at him, and in her eyes was the same sympathy he felt. Adira had helped so many people, but she had sacrificed so much – her entire existence as she knew it, and the love of her life.

But Lennier and Delenn could help, if Adira would let them.

Adira sat with the back of her bald head and braid resting against the wall for the longest time. One may have thought her asleep, had it not been for the rapidness and labor of her breathing, as though she needed to suppress a sob with each separate inhalation and exhalation. Finally, without opening her eyes, she murmured,

“Tell me at least that he lives. We are so far removed here that I do not even know that.”

“He does live,” whispered Delenn, and when Adira opened her eyes to gaze at her with barely-contained hope, tears trickled down the Centauri woman’s face. Delenn smiled kindly.

“He did all of the things you said,” Lennier confirmed. “He thought Refa killed you, so he had him killed, by the Narn of all people. This led the way to an eventual alliance between the Centauri and the Narn. And once he found out that Morden was actually responsible for your death…well, he had him killed as well. But he stopped the Shadows from coming to your world, and now the Shadows are gone forever, with the Vorlons. Centauri Prime is not perfect, but peace is beginning to bud from the ground up. Your world is safe, and Londo is the reason for it.”

A sob caught in Adira’s throat. “So much violence. Poor Londo, how desperate he must have been to have felt driven to such extremes. But it is done. I knew he could do it,” she whispered. “Oh, I _knew_ he could.”

“I have to admit, he defied our expectations,” murmured Delenn respectfully. “And you were a great part of his success. But that success came at far too much of a sacrifice for the both of you. Lennier and I are friends of Londo’s – we can help you get back to him, if you wish. Perhaps it is time to make everything right?”

“Does…does he miss me?” Adira sounded so plaintive, like a child.

Delenn looked back at Lennier for help. 

“Yes,” Lennier sincerely reassured. “Vir told me that it still hurts for Londo to come to Centauri Prime because of the pain of the memory of finding out what really happened to you here. And while Londo has never spoken of you to me – Vir said that he keeps those memories locked up within himself – he always seems to have this sort of sadness surrounding him. I think he tries to seem happy. Sometimes he is, for short times. He has friends at the station, of course – Vir and G’Kar and Mister Garibaldi, and us – and they make him happy. But there is always a part of him that is not able to fully turn himself over to joy, it would seem. I did not know what it was, until now, but now that I have met you, I understand. He does miss you, and I think he feels guilty.”

“I do not wish for him to feel guilty.” Adira shook her head, wiping away her tears. “Never on my account. He has been through enough, and even more since I last laid eyes upon his sweet face. I know he has made mistakes,” she said, her voice sharpening a little, part in emphasis but part in defense, “but he does not deserve the pain I put him through.”

“Then make it right,” Delenn said, with a firmness to her tone to match Adira’s. “Londo has accomplished the things that your apparent death was made to inspire him to do, and more. He is set to become _emperor_ soon, Adira.”

Adira sat upright so quickly that she nearly overturned her stool, her eyes as large as Duck’s (Londo’s cat) when he was chasing his string toy. “ _Emperor_?” She sounded somewhat breathless. “ _My_ Londo?” She shook her head. “I should not be surprised. I knew he would do great things. But even I, in my love for him, did not anticipate _this_. Oh Londo, I am so, so proud!” She wrapped her arms around her torso like an embrace and twisted back and forth in gleeful enthusiasm.

“You see,” Delenn said, “Londo no longer needs the motivation of you being dead. And everything that was threatening you is gone. You are safe, and he has achieved what he needs to. You can be alive again, Adira. And you can _live_ again.”

Adira uttered a choking sob, and at that moment Lennier looked into her eyes and saw that she had made her decision.

“I…I want to see him.” Her bottom lip quivered with overwhelming emotion. “I want to talk to him. But I do not know how to do that – I have no means of connectivity here.”

“That is quite all right,” Lennier reassured her. “Londo was the one who dropped us off here. He is at the Capitol right now, but he will be coming back to pick us up to go back to Babylon 5 in just a couple of days.”

“He is coming here?” Adira clasped her hands tightly together in excitement as Lennier nodded. “Oh, my Londo. Oh, after all these years…” She looked from Delenn to Lennier and back again. “I do not know how to thank the two of you. What you have given me…I cannot…just…thank you.”

Delenn smiled kindly at Adira as the Centauri woman struggled to find words to adequately express what she was feeling. “It is I who owe you a debt. Without you I very likely be but a shadow of myself, my dear Lennier lost to me forevermore.” She shuddered involuntarily, and when Lennier rested his fingertips over hers, she turned over her palm and squeezed them so hard that Lennier’s hand went numb. 

“Londo deserves to know that you’re alive,” Lennier told Adira softly. “And you deserve to see him again. I am just glad that the universe has orchestrated such a mutually fortuitous situation as our meeting.”

“The goddess of fate is secretive with her plans until they occur.” Adira’s entire being seemed to be smiling. “I will sing her many praises tonight for this wondrous turn of events.” She stood then. “If the two of you are all right, I will walk for a bit. I…have many thoughts through which to sort. But in a different way than earlier today.”

Lennier nodded and Delenn murmured warmly for Adira to go. Lennier watched the Centauri woman leave, the buoyancy of her steps was so great that it almost seemed as though she was levitating ever so slightly off the ground. She was nearly a different person from the sad, grieving one Lennier had known but a few hours earlier.

“We did it,” he murmured, looking over at Delenn and smiling. Delenn, seemingly nearly recovered from having been shaken by thinking yet again of how close she had come over the last few days to losing her best friend, returned the gesture genuinely. When she spoke, there was a satisfaction in her tone that implied to Lennier that though it had been an emotional conversation, Delenn had found the process of reuniting lost lovers and helping their new friend get her life back through initially unwelcome interference quite enjoyable.

“Yes. We did, didn’t we?”


	7. Thus with a Kiss, I Live

Lennier continued to sleep off and on, his body still trying its hardest to regain its strength after his fever while simultaneously trying to heal itself from the sunburn. But it seemed to be working, because despite the fact that Delenn and Adira still took turns waking him to give him his antibody injections, Lennier continued to feel a bit more like himself every time he woke. And the sunburn progressed in healing as well, although when the blisters first began to be replaced with peeling skin, Adira had to reassure Delenn that this was the natural progression of the body’s restoration and that it was not going to cause Lennier to contract an infection.

Eyes wide, Delenn looked up at her new friend in desperate hope. “Do you mean that his skin has healed enough to prevent infection altogether? The danger has passed?”

“I am sure caution is still warranted in his state of systemic compromise,” Adira said gently. “And all of the blisters have not gone away of their own accord yet, so care should still be taken not to burst them. But I would guess that within a day, the chance of open wounds associated with the sunburn should be gone.”

With quavering breaths, Delenn took Lennier’s hand and held it close to her chest as though she never, ever wanted to let go. She closed her eyes, and Lennier knew her well enough to realize she was saying a prayer of thanks.

“Everything will be all right, Delenn,” he murmured when she met his eyes again. “The universe is nowhere near ready to separate us yet.”

“The universe cuts itself into pieces that it turns loose to be free,” Delenn replied, sniffling a little in her profound relief. “But there are certain pieces of it that no matter where they go, should always go there together.”

“Always,” Lennier reassured her.

It was evening, and so after Lennier had drank a cup of _medden_ leaf tea and eaten a bit of soup made of something called _ruti_ pods, which was, despite its lack of spice, still rather pleasant on the tongue, he nodded off. He felt the most comfortable he had in some time, especially with his hand in Delenn’s and his head resting on her shoulder.

Several hours later, Lennier awoke in pitch blackness. It must be the middle of the night, he thought, because all of the lamps had been extinguished. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the sleeping forms of Adira and Delenn on their cots – Adira in the corner and Delenn just a few feet away from him. After Lennier had been taken ill, Adira had moved the two cots from his and Delenn’s original tent into her own for herself and Delenn to sleep on. She had moved the cooling unit as well in order to keep Lennier comfortable, so it made sense for Delenn to stay where that was. And of course, Delenn would never have left Lennier in his state of compromised health, anyway.

For a moment, Lennier smiled at the sight of his friend resting comfortably, her worry over him tempered, at least for the moment. But it did not take him long to realize the reason he had woken.

The first thing that he was aware was itchy was his back. He contorted himself so that he could _almost_ reach to scratch it, but to his immense frustration, could not. It was a pleasant surprise to find that it did not hurt his arms or shoulders to turn his body in that way anymore. But they itched, too. And so did his torso, and his face, the top of his head, and even his ears. _Everywhere_ that had been sunburnt itched, and in a way that was worse than any insect bite he had ever gotten in the Tuzenor woods. He tried rubbing his back up against his pillows, but this brought only minimal relief. And when he scratched at his forearm, he cringed at the feeling of little flakes of skin coming off and lodging themselves beneath his fingernails. But no matter how much or how vigorously he scratched and rubbed, trying to bring himself relief only seemed to make matters worse. And that was when Lennier decided that he had had _enough_.

He was tired of feeling unwell and uncomfortable. He was tired of letting the healing process run its course. And even though he had only been awake for a couple of minutes, he was already _very_ tired of feeling itchy. He could feel no blisters left intact anywhere on his body – as Adira had said, it had not taken long for them to go away after the first signs of healing had begun. They had all left dead and peeling skin in their place, and it the only thing that was separating him from comfort. Now that the blisters were gone, there was no chance of bursting one and inadvertently giving himself an infection which could progress to sepsis. What _could_ open his skin and put him at risk, however, was all this scratching. But no matter how hard he tried not to scratch, he could not control himself. The discomfort was overwhelming.

And so Lennier took matters into his own hands. Bracing himself on the edge of the cot and moving very slowly, he eased himself out of bed. Since he had been taken ill, he had only ventured out of bed to relieve himself, which in this village with no running water required a chamber pot. First he had used the one inside the tent because he had just been too weak to leave, but then he had been able to muster the strength to go to the small tent for that designated purpose that was conveniently located just next door. That was where he headed now, though for a different purpose. He stopped first briefly at his travel bag to get the supplies he needed for what he intended to do. He moved very slowly, both due to his need to be as silent as possible to avoid waking Delenn or Adira, neither of whom would have approved of what he was about to do, and because he was still not feeling nearly as strong as he would have liked.

But Lennier succeeded both in not waking his companions and getting to the restroom tent without collapsing. He tried his best to ignore both the smell and the guilt that tugged at him, reminding him that he had been told by both Adira, who was in a way a medical professional, and Delenn, who would be mortified when she found out about this, that he was supposed to stay in bed. No wandering around the tent or the village. And especially no physically exhausting rituals that required standing for long periods.

One of the things Lennier hated the most about being ill was the fact that it so often meant he could not perform the rituals that were of such importance to his people. Rituals for Minbari were not just something to be observed on holidays or simple traditions. There were more than Lennier could count, and every single one of them had a deep and important meaning. There were rituals for everything, even in their every day lives – dressing, eating, using the restroom, getting ready to sleep…the list went on and on. Even though Delenn had reassured him time and again that it was forgivable that he not perform the usual rituals when he was ill or on bed rest, Lennier always felt uncomfortable and guilty when he skipped them, like he ought to be doing penance. But though usually it was enough just to get Delenn’s reassurances for him to not feel so badly about it, Lennier always went back to performing the rituals as soon as he was allowed. They helped him have a sense of normalcy and routine, which was always so terribly disrupted whenever he was seriously ill.

So there was more than one reason he was glad to be performing the _Na’fak Trel_ , the ritual that Minbari performed daily that symbolized continual rebirth. It involved using a chemical to remove the very outer layer of skin. It was the Minbari alternative to bathing, an activity in which they did not participate due to the fact that so much of their home planet was bitterly cold for such a large part of the year and therefore getting wet was often unsafe. The _Na’fak Trel_ both removed the debris of the day and reminded one of their continued increase in enlightenment and consequent rebirth. And while it was one of the lengthier of the daily rituals in which Minbari engaged, it was one of the ones Lennier missed the most. There was something refreshing about physically leaving behind the day that had passed and being renewed for the next day.

But unfortunately, in order to successfully remove all of outer layer of skin, one needed to be standing. And standing was not something Lennier felt particularly comfortable doing at the moment, or at least not for longer than a minute or so. But all the same, he lit the lamp in the odorous little tent so that he could see what he was doing, and then began the protocol for the _Na’fak Trel_.

The ritual, which was a bit of a timely undertaking normally, took him far longer than normal. This was because after just a couple of minutes, Lennier’s legs began to shake and he began to feel dizzy. He managed to sit down on the grass that made up the floor of the tent before he collapsed, and he remained there for several minutes until the disconcertion passed and he felt able to stand again. But after only roughly the same amount of time, he began to feel weak and sat down again, and the whole cycle continued.

After what must have been at least a full hour, Lennier finally felt satisfied that he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He could feel no rough patches of skin, and mercifully, the itching had stopped. He sat down for another quick break before getting shakily to his feet, extinguishing the lamp, and hobbling back to Adira’s tent. It seemed to take him roughly an age to reach his cot, and he had never been so happy to get back to it. Exhausted, he climbed into bed, turned onto his side with his torso propped upright to keep him out of the maligned horizontal, and was asleep almost immediately.

 

The tent was bright with sunlight when Lennier next opened his eyes. His next action was to immediately regret doing so, because he realized very quickly that he felt like he had not nearly enough sleep. When he stretched and shifted position on the cot, he found that his muscles felt stiff and sore.

He had just gotten comfortable and was about to close his eyes again when he heard Delenn’s voice say his name.

“Finally, you are awake, Lennier! I thought you would sleep the day away!”

“Hmm?” A bit reluctantly, Lennier blinked and focused on her. He always loved to see and talk to Delenn, of course, but he was still so very sleepy.

“It is past noon! You went to sleep early last night, too. My poor Lennier, your body must still be in need of quite a lot of rest if you are sleeping so long. I was a bit worried, I will admit, but I thought it best to let you sleep as long as you felt it was necessary.”

_I still feel it is necessary_ , thought Lennier. “I’m all right, Delenn,” he murmured sleepily, snuggling against what was probably the softest bed sheet in the entire village. “I am still just gathering my strength after having had a fever.” He yawned and closed his eyes again, ready to run back into the open arms of sleep.

“Lennier? Lennier!”

He sighed internally, realizing that the sleep he so desired was not to be. But it occurred to him that Delenn sounded worried, so he forced himself to push past his bone-weariness for her sake.

“What is it, Delenn?” he asked. He seemed unable to project his voice as much as he wanted to, and he hoped that she was able to hear him. He made to sit up, but found that it was much more difficult than he had anticipated, and he had throw a hand out to steady himself on the cot. But he achieved his goal, though it took him several seconds longer than it should have.

“Oh, Lennier.” He blinked the sleep away from his eyes and realized with horror that Delenn’s eyes were wide with fright. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Concern sent enough adrenaline through him for him to be able to speak a little louder that time.

“Lennier, you are positively lethargic!” Delenn sounded like she was about to cry, and Lennier instinctively laid a hand over hers where she sat on the cot next to him. “Oh my dear, I thought you had passed the time of danger for getting an infection but I must have been wrong. This was just too much for your poor immune system and even though Londo will be back for us tomorrow we are still such a long way from Babylon 5, and I am worried…”

“Delenn.” Lennier did not often interrupt her because he could not imagine being so rude to her, but this was a unique situation. At the sound of his voice, gentle yet firm enough to indicate that he needed her to hear what he had to say, she stopped. Her eyes were full of tears that looked moments away from spilling onto her cheeks, and seemed to be fighting a losing battle against her trembling bottom lip. Lennier cursed his own stupidity. He _knew_ he was supposed to stay in bed. It was not like he had not been through this before – he knew the routine. Expending too much energy too early just asking for a setback in recovery. His body was simply not strong enough to do the things he was used to – including the _Na’fak Trel_. Of course he would be utterly spent after performing the ritual, and _of course_ Delenn would practically worry herself sick over it, especially since she had been so concerned about him developing an infection in this place without antibiotics or advanced medical care.

“Delenn, I am not ill, or at least any more so than I was yesterday,” soothed Lennier, keeping his voice soft as though he was speaking to an easily frightened animal, who might bolt if he took too hard a tone. “I am just tired, I promise. I brought all of this upon myself, and I am paying for it this morning, but not in a way that is dangerous.”

“W…what?” Delenn sniffled, blinking hard.

“I feel absolutely fine, Delenn,” Lennier reassured her. He delicately grasped her hand and brought it up to rest on his forehead. “See? No fever.”

“You do not feel warm,” said Delenn thoughtfully, the fear in her eyes receding a little. Then, abruptly, she pulled her hand away from Lennier’s face and proceeded to look him over, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

“Lennier…why is your skin not peeling anymore? You look completely healed, but Adira assured us that it would take several days for the process of the damaged skin giving way to that which is healthy to be complete.”

Lennier lowered his eyes and was about to explain, but Delenn beat him to it.

“You performed the _Na’fak Trel_! You stripped your entire outer layer of skin off. You must have done it last night while I was asleep. That is why you are so tired this morning – that must have completely exhausted you in the state you were in!”

“You are astute as always, Delenn,” murmured Lennier, the intensity of his guilt and humiliation making his stomach feel as though it had flipped upside down. “I know you and Adira both told me to stay in bed until I was stronger, but like the fool that I am I did not listen. Even though my blisters had all gone, I was still not systemically well enough to put myself through a ritual that required standing for so long. And I will admit that I did grow quite tired during it, and was forced to take several breaks. But I did it, and even though I am lucky enough that the only adverse effect I seem to be suffering is exhaustion, I realize now that the physical activity could have dampened my immune system further and opened my body up to infection. It was foolish, and as worth it as it felt last night, I regret doing it for having frightened you.” He broke off and shook his head in anger and frustration. “Every time I make careless decisions regarding my health, I swear I will never do such a thing again because of how much it hurts you. But I always do. I never learn.” Finally, _finally_ he looked up into her eyes. He saw pain there, yes, but also so much love. “I am so, so sorry, Delenn. I beg your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it.”

Delenn shut her eyes in relief for a moment, letting her panic dissipate. When she opened them, she looked at Lennier, who had triangled his hands in deference, with so much affection that it seemed impossible it was coming from but one person.

“Oh, Lennier,” she murmured, tracing around the side of his head where his bone met his skin. “You know better than to say such things. Of course you are deserving of forgiveness, and I really wish you _would_ someday learn to follow doctor’s orders.” Lennier winced at her words, but took comfort as she slid her hand down into his. “But I cannot imagine how difficult that must be, with you being as ill as often as you are. In fact, I think you are remarkably patient. But still, you know how much I worry about you.” That remark was a chiding one, though it was ever so slight.

“Yes, Delenn,” murmured Lennier, giving her hand a squeeze. “And I really am sorry.”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed a little. “All right. I know you were anxious for your skin to heal, but what pushed you into performing the _Na’fak Trel_ last night?”

“I was itchy,” mumbled Lennier.

Delenn raised an eyebrow. “Itchy?”

“ _Unbelievably_ itchy,” clarified Lennier. “Oh Delenn, it was awful. I woke up and every part of me itched at once and I _had_ to make it stop. I wanted so much to stay in bed like I knew I was supposed to, but I just couldn’t bear it. And you were finally sleeping peacefully after being so worried about me that I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.”

“You are not sick enough to have relinquished your dignity anyway,” Delenn pointed out. “You would not have asked for my help even if I had not been asleep. You would have endured the discomfort until I left for some reason and then gone about the whole thing yourself anyway.”

Lennier chuckled softly. “You’re right, of course. You know me far to well not to see right through me.” He sighed, guilt still clawing at his insides.

“You are forgiven, Lennier, and I am not upset.” Delenn ran her thumb over the backs of Lennier’s knuckles as she so often did to comfort him. And it made him smile.

“All right. I believe you.” And he did. Delenn shifted so that she was sitting next to him on the cot, and he leaned to her in a sort of half-hug.

“It is quite nice that it no longer hurts to do this,” he noted as he positioned his arms around her.

“I am glad, my dear,” Delenn said, returning his embrace and leaning over his bone to kiss the top of his head. “As much as I appreciate the strengthening of our friendship that comes from my caring for you when you are ill, I like it so much better when you are feeling well.”

“So do I.” Lennier sighed with relief and allowed his heavy eyelids to flutter closed, and in no time at all he was asleep with his head resting on Delenn’s shoulder, feeling at last comfortable and at peace.

 

 

The following day was when Londo and Vir were scheduled to come back to the village to pick up Delenn and Lennier so they could all return to Babylon 5. Because Lennier and Delenn had had no way of contacting their friends from the village, Delenn went to the field where they had been dropped off one week prior to meet them. While Lennier would be able to walk to the field, he would require assistance and time, and he ought not to be waiting out in the heat any longer than he needed to. Besides, though he did not know it yet, Londo had more things to do in the village than just pick up his two Minbari friends.

Adira stayed behind in the tent with Lennier to await Delenn’s return with the new arrivals. She and Delenn had thought it best to, rather than shock Londo with Adira’s presence right as he landed (potentially resulting in the crashing of the shuttle), have Delenn suggest that there was something he needed to see back at the village, therefore preparing him for some big revelation. Adira was restless – she tried to sit in a chair and mend a dress at first, but after a grand total of about thirty seconds, she stood up and walked over to the fireplace like she was going to make tea, but then decided against it and seemed to consider going to sit back down again, but instead washed the dishes. Once those were finished, she just stood at the basin, looking lost and anxious. It was understandable that she should feel on edge, but all the same, Lennier tried to console her almost palpable tension.

“He _is_ going to be happy to see you, you know,” he murmured. Adira turned around to face him, clasping her hands so tightly in front of her that her knuckles went white.

“I want so much for him to be.” Her whisper was tremulous, and it seemed to be the loudest she could manage. “And logic tells me that he will be. But right now the vast majority of my logic seems to have abandoned me, and the only scenarios I can think of for meeting Londo again after all this time are terrible ones. That he will feel so betrayed that he will never wish to see me again, or that as the rising Emperor he will not wish to have anything to do with someone of my status, or…”

“He loves you,” said Lennier softly. “And while with that will come a flurry of emotions, love will be the master of them all.”

Looking at least a little reassured, Adira opened her mouth as though to thank Lennier, but before she could say anything, they both heard a familiar and unmistakable voice, loud as usual, and clear though it came from outside the tent.

“And what exactly is it that I _need_ to see, Delenn? It is, as I predicted, a bunch of tents, with some nice people milling around – hello, good sir! Yes, good day to you! – but nothing unexpected. I am of course more than happy to assist Lennier in getting to the shuttle, but there is nothing remarkable here, as you seem to suggest…”

The voice grew closer and closer as this speech went on, until the flap of the tent opened and inside stepped Londo Mollari. Adira jumped to her feet as Londo halted mid-stride. For a breathless moment, both of them just stared at each other, every muscle in their bodies so tense that it seemed to Lennier that if he touched either of them with only the tip of his finger, they would snap in half. Then, Londo lifted one index finger. He pointed it at Adira, and then shook it once, as if in reprimand.

“No.” His voice was louder than usual, as if he possessed no ability to control its volume. It was nearly a question, half grief-stricken and half inquiring. Londo lowered his outstretched arm then, and took a step backward with a gruff shake of his head. “No.” His voice was quieter that time, and he seemed unable to extend the single syllable as long as it should have been, for his voice broke partway through. He seemed to be begging, pleading, but whether with Adira or some external force, Lennier could not discern for certain.

Adira swallowed hard and lifted her own hand, but had difficulty doing so for the intensity with which it trembled.

“Londo.” A hoarse whisper. She, too, was pleading.

And then came the tears – first Londo’s, then Adira’s.

“You were dead.” For once, Londo was barely audible. “You were… _dead_.” He shook his head and stepped back once more as Adira took a single step toward him.

“I know.” Adira sounded as though she needed to fight to keep her voice steady enough for Londo to understand her. “I know, and I am so sorry for doing that to you.” A sob escaped her lips. “It was necessary, for both our sakes. But Londo – my Londo – I am so, so sorry.”

“You were dead.” It was as though those were the only words Londo knew, and his breath caught as he spoke them.

“I…I am sorry.” Adira was nearly choking on her tears now, each breath a shaky gasp. Lennier could almost see all of the fears she had relayed to him just before Londo’s arrival running through her mind, her worries over a meeting so long overdue and so infused with emotion seeming to her anxious mind to be threatening to come true.

“No.” Finally, Londo took a step toward Adira rather than away from her, his tears flowing uninhibited. “Blubbering” was the word Vir would probably have used, if he had not been standing frozen in the tent’s entryway, his mouth hanging open and his eyes the size of saucers. 

“Do not apologize,” said Londo hoarsely. “This is the happiest day of my life.” And just when his tears completely overcame his ability to speak, Adira, as if released from some sort of supernatural spell, ran to him, threw her arms around him, and kissed him for as long as she could before the both of them needed to breathe, their shaky inhalations governed by their sobs. And then, with chests heaving, they just held each other, with Adira’s cheek against Londo’s chest, her tears staining front of his maroon jacket. Londo rested his face atop Adira’s head, his own tears shining on her shaven scalp and running down to soak into her braid. The light from the setting sun filtered through the tent’s flap and illuminated the two reunited lovers, and for a moment it seemed as though they were the only things shining in a world of shadows.

At some point, Delenn had crept into the tent and settled on the edge of Lennier’s cot. She looked over at him now with a bright smile that said that _they_ had done this. Lennier smiled back. They _had_ done this, and it was worth being proud of.

“Adira,” Londo whispered over and over again. “ _My_ Adira.”

And for the first time perhaps since Lennier had known him, Londo Mollari was truly happy.

 

 

Several hours later, they were all back in Londo’s surprisingly comfortable and spacious shuttle. As an ambassadorial vessel, it was equipped with all forms of emergency medical equipment, and a bit more in case of the potential for getting stranded. After a call to Doctor Franklin on Delenn’s part, Lennier lay stretched out across the back row of seats. Adira had been able to find and hit a vein in his arm, and he was now attached to an intravenous, continuous drip of both his custom-made antibodies and a broad-spectrum antibiotic, while resting comfortably in the full force of the shuttle’s air conditioning. Doctor Franklin had said that the drip was just until they got back to Babylon 5 and he could examine Lennier. It sounded as though he was well enough recovered not to need any antibiotics, and only twice daily intramuscular injections of his antibodies, but until then, it was better to be safe than sorry. Although he disliked being tethered to the intravenous line, after how worried Delenn had been over his health, Lennier was more than happy to obey the doctor’s orders. And besides, as long as he remained on the medications, they could linger on Centauri Prime as long as they needed, giving Londo and Adira time to discuss their situation and figure out what to do next regarding this unexpected yet enormous development in their lives. And Lennier desperately did not wish to be an obstruction to their decision-making process. Luckily, the seats made a surprisingly comfortable place to lie down. And while he was feeling much recovered from the previous week, Lennier was still decidedly under the weather, and he was content to rest in the cool cabin and give his friends all the time they needed.

Delenn and Vir sat in the seats across from him. Delenn was reading. Vir kept glancing over his shoulder toward the cockpit where Londo and Adira sat, as though he could not quite believe what was happening. He played with a little handheld game, but Lennier knew that what he was really doing was trying to catch bits of what Londo and Adira were saying inside the rather open cockpit without actively eavesdropping. And if Lennier was to be entirely honest (and as a Minbari he at least _tried_ to be) he was not actively trying to shut out their conversation, either.

“Come back with me, Adira. Please. Come back to me with Babylon 5. And then when one day I am emperor you can stand by my side and I can give you everything you have ever wanted and more. Just do not leave me again, Adira, please. I beg of you.”

“You need not beg, Londo. I do not need the riches or the privilege that comes with being the emperor’s wife – although the pride I feel in you for attaining this accomplishment is beyond wonderful. All I want is to be with you.” Adira sighed, sounding sad. “But Londo, I have made a life here. I am the healer of this village – if I leave them, I will be leaving my friends without any means of healing in a time of great need.”

“Are there not healers in the nearby villages? I thought you said the boy Lennier saved was with one of them.”

“You are correct, but our resources are spread too thin as it is. I have friends here, Londo, and though I would leave them for you if it were only a matter of missing them fondly, there is just too much at stake here.”

Several seconds went by before Adira spoke again. “I am sorry, my dear Londo. I have wanted more than anything to be with you for the past three years. At every mention of love or affection, my heart would ache and I would be caught in an unbreakable fit of longing and nostalgia.”

“And I have been the same way, Adira. I never wanted to go on without you, but there were things far greater than my own feelings at stake. But now that those things are done, and you are alive… You were what made my life _good_ , my love. Whole. I was so empty inside without you. There was this…crater in my heart. I…I always felt that it was my fault you died, and I never learned to live with that. Maker forbid I _ever_ did. But it was not only the guilt that hurt – I _missed_ you. Now that you are back…I do not ever want to feel that way again. Please, do not make me feel that way again.”

Londo paused, and though Lennier could not quite see inside the cockpit, he could imagine his friend shaking his crested head.

“What am I saying? You are needed here to help people, to save lives, and I want you all for myself. I am selfish, and as ever I do not deserve someone so good as you. I am sorry.”

“Londo.” Adira sounded simultaneously horrified, pedantic, and affectionate. “No. You are _not_ selfish, and you _do_ deserve me. Yes, you have done things in your life that you regret. But that does not make you undeserving of love. And you are allowed to want me. But…” Her voice broke, and Lennier’s heart plummeted as he listened. “…You have to be willing to let me go again.”

Vir reached up to wipe at the corner of his eye, and Delenn squeezed his arm in sympathy. Lennier wished he could reach far enough to do the same, though he could use the action of comfort for himself as well. He wanted so much to see both Londo and Adira happy at long last, but it seemed as though the two of them were doomed to be without one another forever, never truly content, part of them always yearning for something they could never have. Lennier had thought he was to be condemned to such an existence before he realized that he and Delenn could have a fulfilling and beautiful relationship that was not romantic in nature, and he remembered how helpless and depressed he had felt. It was not at all a pleasant memory.

“So it seems as though we are, in fact, destined to be like Romeo and Juliet,” said Adira, so quietly that Lennier almost did not hear her at all.

“Romeo and Juliet?” Londo asked somewhat blankly. “Those human children in love from that play Mister Cole is so fond of?”

“Lennier mentioned it,” sighed Adira. “I drank a draught of living death. And external forces keep conspiring to keep us apart. For Romeo and Juliet, it was their families. For us, it was our class differences, then the Shadows, then your obligations, and now mine. And yes, I know the whole point is that I am _not_ dead, but we will still be apart. And that is almost as bad. It is terribly ironic, is it not, how literature mirrors reality?”

“But it does not have to,” said Londo, his tone suddenly full of conviction. “Adira, I have a couple of calls to make. I can, perhaps, fix this.”

While Londo made his calls, Adira came out to check on Lennier. Lennier, Delenn, and Vir all gave her smiles that were attempts at being reassuring but mostly sad. She seemed appreciative of the effort, but once she was sure Lennier was faring well, she went for a walk, saying that it was too difficult to stay in one place right now. Lennier did not blame her in the least.

Londo talked for over two hours. Lennier could only hear Londo’s end of the conversation, and so he was never really sure exactly what was going on, but it sounded as though Londo was asking for a very large favor for which he would likely be paying for a very long time.

Despite himself, after a little while, Lennier dozed off, and only awoke when Adira returned to the shuttle just as Londo was walking out of the cockpit. Lennier blinked to clear his vision, which was blurry with sleep, and saw that while Londo looked nervous, he also looked pleased with himself.

“Adira.” Londo sounded breathless with excitement and anticipation. “I have done it.”

“Londo, what precisely have you done?” Adira asked gently.

Londo motioned for her to take one of the shuttle’s cabins seats, and he sat next to her and grasped both of her hands in his own.

“Adira, I have made calls to the Centarum and the Ministry of Health, and they have agreed to my plan!”

“Which was _what_ exactly, Londo?” Adira urged.

“There is to be a health clinic set up in the center of the group of villages here,” Londo explained with excitement. “That way all of the villagers in the area have access to medical care. It will be staffed with government-paid doctors, but the type of people who will work with the local healers to incorporate their traditional and tested healing methods rather than steamrolling over them.”

“Hopefully that promise will help to sway Guilina,” murmured Adira. She seemed to still be processing the news.

“There will be a temporary clinic for now – a tent much like yours – but a permanent institution will be built. Overall, like most of my other plans this week for aiding the storm victims, I am proud to say, the idea was very well received. While of course traditional values need to be respected, the government for has neglected the people here too long. It is time that we show how much we care about _all_ Centauri.”

“Oh, Londo.” Adira gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “That…that means…”

“Your friends here will be well taken care, Adira,” reassured Londo. “The wall between us has been demolished.”

“We can be together.” Adira choked on the words at first. But then her hands started to tremble, and the rest of her body followed. Tears spilled down her cheeks and suddenly she launched herself out of her chair and into Londo’s embrace, where he held her close to himself. “We can be _together_.”

“Yes. Oh, my Adira, yes we can be together. After all this time, we can have our happy ending.”

“I am happy, Londo,” whispered Adira as she pressed her lips to his for a long moment and then rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.

“And I am happy, too, Adira,” murmured Londo as he turned to kiss her head. “I am the happiest I have ever been. For my lost love has come back to me – and I never want to be without you again.”

Suddenly, as though he simply could not contain himself a moment longer, Vir let out a noise akin to a squeak, causing everyone in the room to look at him.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. “I’m just so excited, I can’t help it! Londo, you finally get to be happy!”

Londo’s joyful laugh filled the shuttle. “Try telling G’Kar that I require more than just him to make me happy. But yes.” He met Adira’s eyes again and gazed at her with a depth of affection Lennier had never seen from him before. “I am truly happy.”

“As am I,” whispered Adira. Every trace of sadness and pain that had lingered so frequently on her face over the past few days was gone, and in its place was a pure and unadulterated joy.

“I am so happy for the both of you,” Delenn breathed, excitement lighting up every part of her.

“So am I!” exclaimed Lennier. “You both deserve the happiness that will come from being with each other.”

“Thank you. All of you,” said Adira. “And to think, I get that happiness every day for the rest of my life now. Because I will be with you, Londo Mollari, until the day I die, and perhaps even beyond that.

“And I will be with you until the Great Maker comes to reclaim what He has made, Adira Tyree,” Londo said. “I will never leave you to face the universe alone again.”

Adira just smiled and nestled into Londo’s embrace.

After Adira had packed her things with the help of Londo, Vir, and Delenn (the latter two of whom took turns keeping Lennier company in the shuttle) and said goodbye to her friends in the village and explained the plan for the new medical center to them, the five left Centauri Prime to return to Babylon 5. And as the shuttle cleared the atmosphere and sent them shooting through the stars, Lennier felt an incredible sense of peace and happiness settle over him. His friends were happy, and therefore so was he.

And as Lennier glanced into the cockpit, he saw Adira standing over Londo, with her arms and head resting on his shoulder, watching as he directed the shuttle onto their course. Both were smiling with every atom of their bodies. They were both _happy_.

Because who said _Romeo and Juliet_ needed to end the same way every time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this volume of the "Hold Back the River" AU! Stay tuned for whatever comes next, as always! I currently have another huge novel (the longest I've done) planned to start for Camp NaNo in July. Before then though, I'll probably do a sequel to "And the Great Maker Said, 'Let There Be Cats'", because I know people really want that and I do too. ;) I also might have one more short fic before the novel showing G'Kar and Adira meeting, but I'll work on that.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed "Defying the Stars"! If you haven't, please comment - I absolutely love reading everyone's thoughts on my stories. Thanks!


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